


In Several Different Places

by materialism



Series: Perpendicular [1]
Category: Paramore
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, figuring it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/materialism/pseuds/materialism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if parallel lines decide to become perpendicular?</p><p>(Eleven years and most of the planet later, Taylor and Zac try to figure it out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Several Different Places

**Author's Note:**

> the most hypothetical behemoth that ensures my penthouse suite in the underworld. a hypothetical version of z&t&friends going to nz, which gave us pix of the boys shirtless (i would like to thank god and also jesus). early 2015. z is 24, t is 25.
> 
> italicized chunks are past events, all else is present. 
> 
> research on new zealand is like, exactly zero, i'm super sorry. i'm dying to go, and one day when i'm not in massive amounts of debt i will. 
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own anything depicted in this story: all individuals portrayed, all situations described, and i certainly do not own the entire country of new zealand. any individuals in this story are fictional interpretations of personality and not meant to be actual facsimiles of said people. if you are one of these people, for the love of whatever deity you believe in, click the back button, do not google yourself, and have a lovely date with your very real girlfriends. (t, i will gladly take ur lady off ur hands if things don't work out.)
> 
> enjoy.

_“Let’s sleep back to back,” Zac suggests, rolling over onto his side. He expects the press of Taylor’s back into his own. While the contact will be a lot for him, at least definitely won’t know he’s hard._

_But no, God’s apparently testing him tonight, because instead he gets the entire front of Taylor’s body pressing against his back. Zac is grateful for the body heat on a very basic level, his breath currently visible in the frigid air, but his heart is pounding like a jackrabbit on the run. Why did Taylor have to come with them skiing? Why did the heat have to break? Why are they all doubling up? This is horrible for Zac’s mental well being._

_“Back to back?” he asks again, though he knows full well Taylor heard him and proceeded to ignore him._

_“There’s not enough room for that,” Taylor says into his shoulder. He’s right; there’s really no way for them to share it other than to be on top of each other. “Is it legal for a bed to be this small?”_

_“I feel like I’m walking into a fat joke,” Zac says, feigning tiredness._

_Really, though, he’s not tired; he’s wide awake. His stomach is in knots right now. Taylor is so close, pressed up against his back. Why couldn’t they have slept back to back like Zac suggested? Why does that even matter now? They’ve shared a bed for necessity more than a few times and it’s never been this harrowing. Zac’s making a big deal out of what should be absolutely nothing._

_“Nah, you’re spared for tonight,” Taylor says. His breath is tickling Zac’s skin, lips so close to his ear. “Consider yourself lucky.”_

_“What’s the best you can come up with?” Zac says._

_Taylor hums in thought. “I’ll come at you with five jokes in the morning.”_

_Zac makes what he hopes is a positive sound and closes his eyes, drifting into an uneasy sleep. At least some things, like Taylor’s propensity to call him fat at any opportunity, are consistent._

_He wakes up to a phantom sensation digging into him. As he comes to, he is becoming readily aware of the stiffness of Taylor’s dick resting in the cleft of his ass. His breath is even and quiet, like he’s asleep. Does he know he has a hard on? Zac is well aware of his own, and it’s getting more and more worrisome the longer this goes on. He’s going to Hell. He’s going to Hell because his best friend is just having a bodily function and he’s excited by it. He wants to touch himself but he also kind of wants to touch Taylor. He could shift to his other side, or even just reach around and..._

_He gets out of bed and doesn’t even bother to throw on a sweater as he runs down the hall. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up. With his head down, he feels tears start to drip down his face, droplets gathering at his nose. He had thought the first time he thought about this, it was just something fleeting, a ‘what if’ along the lines of the millions of other ‘what if’ thoughts he’s had in his life. He touched himself, repented, and that was that. But it’s been more than a year and... well, Zac’s still hard despite being nauseous. He’s sick in a lot of ways._

_He doesn’t want to be gay. It’s wrong to think of other men in this way (even though it doesn’t feel wrong, even though it feels like sunshine when Taylor smiles at him). He doesn’t want to waste this life God gave him living in sin. It’s an ache tearing him in two - his certain love of God and the uncertainty of his swimming thoughts and jumbled feelings. He can’t believe that he was starting to be okay with it. He can’t be left alone with Taylor anymore - alone and close, anyway._

_When he finally makes his way back down the hall, he’s resolute about sleeping on the floor, even if it’s cold. He grabs a blanket from the linen closet and can just get a pillow from the bed. But this plan dies about two seconds upon entering the room. The nightstand lamp is on and Taylor is sitting up in the bed, like he’s been waiting for Zac to come back. His hair is a wreck and if he didn’t feel so horrible he’d be laughing at it._

_“You okay? Sounded like something was dying in there,” Taylor says, voice rumbly with sleep. His voice still crackles from time to time, adjusting to the break._

_“Yeah, probably ate something bad,” Zac says. He throws the blanket on the floor and walks toward the bed for a pillow. Taylor grabs it away before he can get to it._

_“If you think you’re sleeping on the floor, you’re a dumbass,” Taylor says. “It’s freezing.”_

_“I might get you sick,” Zac lies._

_Well, it’s a certain truth, in that he knows what would ease the ache - a certain kind of sickness. All he wants to do is crawl back in bed and sleep with Taylor against his back again. It’s wrong. It’s loathsome. He’s disgusting. He can’t scrub away these thoughts, no matter how hard he tries -_

_“Dude, are you crying?” Taylor says. He makes a weird face, because they’re guys and they don’t cry._

_“What’s it to you?” Zac says, because there’s no use denying it - the light’s on and Taylor can see that he’s crying._

_“I didn’t think you knew how to cry,” Taylor says, and Zac can’t help but smile through his tears._

_“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Zac says, shivering. “I want to sleep.”_

_Taylor makes an “if you’re sure” face and lies back down on his side. He lifts up the blanket, an expectant look crossing his sleepy face. Zac drops the blanket and walks toward the bed, something stronger than shame pushing him forward._

_“C’mon, you big lump,” Taylor says, and Zac hiccups, still crying but also laughing._

_“There’s the fat joke,” Zac says as he finally lies down and faces Taylor, pulling his part of the blanket over him. “I knew you had it in you.”_

_“Not my best work,” Taylor says. He sounds nervous for some reason. “Turn off the light?”_

_“Yeah, sure,” Zac says, twisting around to turn off the light. When he twists back and settles in, Taylor’s looking at him curiously._

_“Um,” Taylor says. “Hi.”_

_Zac raises an eyebrow. “Hi...?”_

_“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Taylor says._

_“Of course I’m not going to tell anyone about this,” Zac says, laughing. Duh. But Taylor still looks dead nervous, biting his lip, eyes wide._

_“No, I mean this.” He grabs both sides of Zac’s face and kisses him._

_Zac is so shocked by this action that he doesn’t have time to react before Taylor pulls away, breathless. The moonlight is casting light on their faces, and Zac can see his red cheeks in the darkness. He touches his lips as Taylor’s face falls, and they feel barren without him._

_“I’m sorry, you just looked really sad and I wanted - Please don’t tell anyone?” Taylor says._

_Zac sort of wants to cry again, but also feels so happy he could burst. In some distant way, Taylor wants this. Even if he just wants to help a friend, a kiss is pretty strong. He feels sick again, but he also feels brave. There’s no one else in this room. They’re just two boys in the dark in a cabin in the woods. Maybe God has more important things to do right now._

_“As long as you don’t tell anyone about this,” he says as he shuffles forward and finds Taylor’s lips in the dark._

_This kiss doesn’t last very long either, but it’s a confirmation, a reassurance that he’s okay. Taylor opens it a little and interlocks his fingers with Zac’s. When they part, they giggle about it - nobody’s mad about the bed anymore. Of course, because Zac is himself, the tears bubble up again (what did they just do, why is he twisting Taylor’s kindness into impurity?). Taylor just pulls Zac in so that he can rest his face in Taylor’s shoulder. It’s scary to feel so safe. The wrong and the right. The head and the heart._

_“You’re my best friend,” Taylor whispers into his ear._

_“You’re mine too,” Zac says, and speaking into Taylor’s shoulder feels like kissing him there.  
_

-

When Zac gets downstairs on their last day in New Zealand (at a decent hour, if 11am counts as that), he finds Taylor in a ratty Ramones T-shirt and cutoffs, sans shoes, with a carton of broken eggs at his feet. He’s staring down at them with a faintly amused look on his sunburnt face.

This is a day Zac’s both been craving and dreading since they arrived. He and Taylor have had a good deal of time on this trip to get close again, but it’s been with others - Zac’s band, various girlfriends and friends, a huge group as a buffer. It’s not like they haven’t hung out by themselves since they patched things up, either - but that was in the context of their familiar haunts. He can’t hide now - no people between, no home to run to. It’s just them from morning until night, Zac and this decade-old stomach swoop whenever Taylor smiles at him. 

“Isn’t that shirt mine?” Zac says for lack of a better announcement of his presence.

“So I might have broken every egg we had left,” Taylor says. “Which was also the only food we have left. Unless you want beer for breakfast, which I would not be opposed to, but I’d be burping all day, which no one wants. And no, it’s mine, you just have a similar one.”

“Ah, okay. Well, we do have apples and beef jerky,” Zac says, walking over to pick up the carton and throw it in the trash. “Wanna go for a walk or something? I kind of feel like doing something.”

“We should go to the beach. I know we’ve been like, every day, but I’ve never been able to go to the beach for my birthday.”

Zac can’t help but grin wide. “It’s February, Taylor. It’s not your birthday.”

Taylor gives him a look like he’s the one talking nonsense. “It’s my birthday until March. Don’t you know anything?”

“What about me, huh?” Zac says. “I bet I only get two weeks.”

Taylor goes from incredulous to offended, his button nose scrunching up. “Your birthday is until September. Early October, if you want to push it. So I can get you a gift in mid-July and you can’t get angry at me because it’ll still be your birthday.”

“Better halfway through my birthday than never,” Zac laughs, to stall so he doesn’t have to say anything just yet. “Alright, last day. Everyone bounced. What do you want to do? Besides beach, we already know beach.”

“Food first,” Taylor says. “Real food, before you interject, we can snack on that crap but it’s not gonna sustain me.”

“You eat enough for, like, twelve people on a daily basis,” Zac says. “No wonder we have no food left.” 

Taylor flips him off. “Anyway, I was thinking we’d just get something we can walk with? I feel like we haven’t actually checked out the town with all the other stuff we’ve been doing. Is that lame or...?”

“That’s not lame,” Zac says. “I’ve kind of wanted to check it out too. Maybe get matching shirts for our hats.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Taylor says. “Thanks for being game to doing stupid tourist shit.”

“When in Rome - er, not Rome...?” Zac says, and they both erupt into giggles.

They decide to forgo the rental for walking up the winding road to the edge of their block, leaving through the front door for maybe the third time this trip. It’s a narrow road, and Taylor walks a little bit ahead of him, shoes in his hand. He likes the feel of whatever’s on his feet (“Socks are barriers, Zac,” he drunkenly said to him, ages ago, in that other life they had before this). After a moment, Zac takes his sandals off too. He’ll need them for the beach anyhow. 

“The barefoot brigade, hell yeah,” Taylor says, giving him a high five. 

Even though they’re not saying a whole lot, the atmosphere is easy. Zac’s really glad that he picked up the phone and invited Taylor along. Taylor had always been his favorite part of their tours abroad - always wanting to explore, always wanting to try new things, and never down if something didn’t work out. Not much has changed except, well, them. They’re older, and their friendship is less reckless now - much less reckless than the first time around. They take more care with what they say, discuss problems before they become worse, and can actually rip on each other knowing that it’s not real.

And Zac is more in love with him now than he ever has been.

He can actually say it now (out loud, alone in the car or the bathroom, which is more than he was ever able to do before). He can actually face that, despite prayer and seeking guidance, his heart and soul are tied to another man. (As cheesy as that sounds. Which it does sound really, really cheesy.) He’s absolutely happy that they made up, but it’s made living with this fact so much harder. Taylor is walking slightly ahead of him, the back of his matching hat already faded from the brutal sunlight. They bought them at the beginning of the trip to be jerks, but they’re good hats, so they decided to keep wearing them anyway. How Taylor is wearing black right now is beyond him, though the stretch of the fabric across his shoulders is nice... 

“Zac!” Taylor shouts, making Zac snap out of his mental fog. 

“What, what did I miss? I’m zoning, sorry, didn’t sleep great,” Zac says, knowing his words sound like a jumbled mess. Hopefully Taylor takes the bait about him being tired...

With the look on his face, he clearly doesn’t, but he’s not going to push it. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past thirty seconds. Wanna go in here? Nifty thrifty things.” 

It’s a cute little vintage/consignment store, one with a bit of a punk rock flair, with strangely dressed mannequins in the front windows. They probably have amazingly bad bridesmaid dresses in here. Zac loves the shit out of those. Oh, and aviators... He still has a shit ton of money left from the fact that all they’ve really been doing is swimming, surfing, and doing Lord of The Rings crap. Why not. But he’s not going to be all eager about it.

“So you can add to your black shirt collection?” Zac says. Taylor sticks his tongue out at him. “Sure, I could probably use some new sunglasses.”

They enter and the old man behind the counter gives them a wave before letting them do their own thing. Zac likes that about other areas of the world - people leave you alone until you know what you want. the walls are stacked floor to ceiling with weird stuff on hangers - Old West jackets and biker vests and Christmas sweaters and hangers full of studded belts. Taylor makes Zac take a picture next to a mannequin dressed like a burlesque dancer with nipple tassels because he’s fourteen (admittedly, it would be really hot on a girl). Zac picks up a pair of aviators and places them on the glass jewelry case by the shop owner when Taylor puts down a truly hideous T-shirt with pineapples on it.

“It brings out my eyes,” Taylor says, completely deadpan, and Zac cracks up. The old man behind the counter smiles, a twinkle in his eye. 

“Matching hats, hm?” he says, eyes flicking up to their hats. Zac and Taylor smile and shake their heads at their ultimately poor decision. “I’ve got something you might be interested in.”

He dips down and rifles around while Zac and Taylor exchange a puzzled look. Something having to do with pineapples? Red? Hopefully it’s not some stupid touristy thing. When the man comes back up, he’s retrieved a rectangular velvet box. When he opens it, he retrieves two rings, each the broken half of something. They’re a dull silver color, obviously very old, but it adds to their charm. Zac loves them, even if he’s trying to figure out what they even are, or why the man is showing them to him.

“Is that two halves of a world?” Taylor asks, concentration solely on the rings.

“Quite correct,” the old man says. “I have a personal connection to these - they belonged to me and my late partner. I couldn’t bear to keep them after he passed, but I wanted to gift them to two people who deserved them. I think I’ve found them.”

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Taylor says, and Zac nods, unsure of what to say. Even with his current situation, with his ongoing situation, it’s still hard for him to normalize two men loving each other long term. He sometimes wishes his upbringing could have had God without the wrath. “Can I hold them?”

“Of course,” the man says, sounding a little more subdued as he drops them in Taylor’s palm. Taylor looks at them up close, in the light, then stares again before moving them together.

“They fit together,” Taylor says. "How much?"

They barter as Zac fiddles with the discount box. What is he doing? Why is this happening to him? If they were together, this would be adorable, but they’re not together, so it’s uncomfortable at best. He feels fucked with, but he can’t feel fucked with if Taylor doesn’t even know he’s invested like that. When Taylor’s done with his purchase, Zac goes to pay for his sunglasses, but realizes they aren’t there. Taylor holds them up.

“Took care of that for you,” he says. “It was easier. Let’s go.”

They bid their goodbyes to the old man and exit. The second they’re far away enough, Zac stops them in their tracks. 

“You realize you just lied to a perfectly nice old man?” Zac says. “That wasn’t nice.

“Actually, I think it was the nicest thing I could have done,” Taylor says. “I felt really bad. He was really candid with us and I couldn’t tell him the truth.”

“I mean, I guess,” Zac says. 

Taylor claps him on the back and holds up his right hand. “Besides, they’re pretty cool, right?” 

Zac has to agree, staring at his own right hand. “They’re awesome. Maybe we could be like girls in junior high and have friendship bracelets. But rings.”

“Ours will be, like, ninety million times fancier,” Taylor says. “Omega level friendship. Eagle Scout. Black Belt. Other high levels.”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Zac says, shaking his head fondly. He’s ridiculous. “By the way, we forgot to eat because you wanted to buy that awful shirt. Can we fix that?”

-

_”This is really juvenile,” Zac says, crossing his arms. He’s trying out being level headed. Really, it just comes out sounding goofy, but he’s gonna keep trying._

_“Says the youngest person here,” Hayley says at the ripe old age of eighteen. “For the third time, truth or dare?”_

_Zac sighs. “Dare, because I don’t want to know what you’re going to ask me to confess.”_

_Hayley grins, that evil one she does when she’s about to ruin your day. “I dare you to kiss Taylor.”_

_Yeah, should have picked truth. There are whoops throughout the whole room, uproarious laughter. Taylor’s eyebrows are practically up to his hairline; Zac can only imagine what he looks like._

_“Aw, come on, really?” Zac says. “I’ll do literally anything else.” No, really._

_“You’ve already used up your forfeit, man,” Sarah says, nestled into Jeremy’s side. They’re fucking disgustingly cute._

_“You should have just licked the faucet, dude,” Taylor says, shaking his head. “I’m just wondering why it has to be me. There are like forty people in this room.”_

_“Do not question,” Hayley says. “Just do.”_

_They look at each other and shrug, shuffling closer together and leaning in. It’s a quick peck, nothing more than a brush of lips before they pull apart. Kind of like a cabin in the woods when they were thirteen, except Zac’s heart is thundering like crazy, his lips craving more. He wipes off his mouth for show. Taylor looks unruffled, about the same as he did before, if breathing a little heavier. They share a smile, a silent acknowledgement of a secret all their own. They look at everyone else, and... they look disappointed._

_“Do you really kiss like that? C’mon, you can do better,” Hayley says, shaking her head and snapping her fingers._

_“You just really want to watch two dudes mack on each other,” Jeremy says, punching Hayley in the shoulder. “That’s a little weird, munchkin.”_

_She throws her hands up. “I mean, duh. Why do you think I dared them? You can’t blame a girl, though - what’s better than two of what you like liking each other?”_

_“Amen,” Brian says at the same time Sarah says, “Mmhmm,” and they all high five._

_“Why don’t I get to make out with Taylor, huh? Am I not an ideal candidate? Do you not like me?” Josh says. He flexes and everyone laughs._

_“I’m too jealous to watch you make out with a guy,” Hayley says. “Alright, let’s quit stalling. Get to it. Thirty seconds.”_

_“Thirty seconds?!” Zac squeaks._

_“Why have you forsaken me, Lord,” Taylor deadpans and Zac can’t help but laugh._

_“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he says, and they lean in again._

_Kisses being like fireworks is not an actual thing, but this feels way different than any other kiss he’s had. His breath is hot and dry, and he’s aware of how everything feels against his skin all of a sudden - the pressure of the floor against his knees, the artificial cool of the AC, his clothing against his skin, Taylor’s slightly chapped lips. He doesn’t know._

_“Tongue!” he hears someone shout, and a bunch of laughter a moment later. Taylor probably flipped them off, which is - oh, and there’s Taylor’s tongue._

_It’s shy, thankfully, though he can’t imagine that Taylor would be forceful with anything except playing an instrument. Zac follows suit, and soon they’re just exploring each other’s mouths, turning heads to get a better angle. Zac feels his hand drifting up to touch the side of Taylor’s face. Is that Taylor’s hand on his knee? When they pull apart, it’s slowly, mouths stuck together. Taylor makes a little sound and seems to want to chase Zac’s lips, but he thinks better of it. They stare at each other, short of breath._

_“Holy shit,” Hayley says, breaking the awed silence. None of the other guys even seem grossed out, just impressed._

_“That was, like, better than porn,” Sarah says._

_Brian and Hayley nod in agreement, eyes wide._

_“Go team!” Taylor says, holding up his hand for a high five. Right. This is a joke._

_“Yeah!” Zac replies, high fiving him. “I’d rate that a six.”_

_“What? A six? Fine, I’d rate you a two, asshole,” Taylor says, crossing his arms._

_Everyone takes it as a joke, laughing their asses off, but Taylor’s eyes tell a story of panic and, well, arousal. At least Zac’s not alone._

_The rest of the night, for some reason, turns into a huge debate about cake versus pie. It’s a violently divisive topic, it turns out, as Jeremy and Jordan nearly come to blows. Pie is the obvious victor, and when Zac voices that opinion, he gets high fives from Hayley and Jeremy and glares from Josh and Taylor. Taylor won’t really look at him otherwise. In some strange want to be closer (why does he want to be closer, they’re sitting closely already, they just kissed for crying out loud), he puts a hand in the space between them, leaning on it as he chimes in every once in a while._

_When he feels a nudge at his fingertips, at first he thinks it’s just in his head. The second nudge makes him look down at his hand and, yes, that’s Taylor’s pinky on top of Zac’s. He looks at Taylor, but doesn’t get a glance in return. Taylor’s laughing at something or other, probably someone being crazy. Ever the king of multi-tasking, he’s rubbing circles on his pinky. When Zac dips his pinky under to link them together, he sees Taylor smirk. He’s still not looking at him, but it’s enough._

_Later, much later, Zac is on his laptop in the lounge when Taylor comes in and sits by his side. Zac has always found that funny, how he sits next to him even if there’s tons of room on the couch._

_“Oh, here you are,” Taylor says. “I’ve been looking for you.”_

_Zac makes a ‘surprise‘ gesture with his hands. “Here I am. What’s up?”_

_“Just wanted to say good night,” Taylor says._

_“Good night?” Zac says, confused. He usually just murmurs it when they’re hopping into their bunks._

_“Good night,” Taylor says, soft and sweet, before he leans in and brushes his lips against Zac’s._

_Zac makes a little ‘oh!’ sound before pressing back into Taylor. It kind of reminds him of when they were thirteen, but it isn’t. This isn’t necessarily a comfort thing, an assurance thing. It’s rather more than that, with shades of their re-do kiss tonight, rekindling the heat in Zac’s belly. Zac opens up the kiss, tentative, and they spend a few minutes innocently exploring each other’s mouths. Even though they’re both a little turned on, there isn’t much sexual going on in the kiss. When they part, they give each other one last peck before heading to the bunks. When Zac stares up at the ceiling of his bunk, his stomach is churning, but more from nerves than from guilt for once._

_They ignore that night the rest of the tour, going back to just being friends. Even if Zac thinks about it every once in a while, he pushes it to the back of his mind. Taylor’s his best friend and he doesn’t want that to change, so it’s fine to hold back. No big deal. It’s fine._

__

-

“Um,” says a bright voice from somewhere behind Zac. 

He and Taylor have been making a lazy roundabout path to the beach, caught up in conversation (the most useless creatures in the animal kingdom - they both agree about wasps but disagree about pigeons). They’re just finishing the sandwich they split for their oddly timed first meal of the day, and Zac hopes he won’t get a cramp when they go swimming. It takes him a second to register someone’s spoken, but he turns around and sees two twentysomething girls looking at them expectantly. One (a small, pretty thing in a crop top and shorts) is partially hiding behind the other (in cargo shorts and a band tee) who looks exasperatedly fond of her.

“Hey, what’s up?” Zac says, shaking himself out of the previous conversation. 

Cargo Shorts speaks for the two of them. “My girlfriend - and myself, I suppose - want to know if you’re Zac Farro. And if your friend is Taylor York.”

“You’d be correct on both counts,” Zac says. Taylor waves at them.

“Oh my God,” Crop Top says. “I’m Casey, this is Sarah -” she gestures over to her girlfriend, “can we have a picture? Is that alright?”

“Sure,” Taylor says, stepping in. “It’s nice to meet you. What are you guys doing here today?”

Taylor has always been really good at this kind of thing, despite his shyness in every other aspect of life. He signs a few things they have on them, literally pulling Zac in by the arm to do the same. Since there aren’t very many people around, they can take their time with photos and conversation. Individual shots, quasi group, and one with them all together, taken by an old woman with a dog. Taylor and Casey get into a deep discussion about what seems like equipment, his advice and all that. Zac and Sarah naturally paired off together anyway - she’s a good compliment to his bouncy personality.

“You guys are really cute together,” Sarah says to him in a lull, as Taylor and Casey continue to chatter away. “Casey didn’t believe me, but when we saw you two had become friends again...” 

“Oh, no, it’s - we’re not - together. I mean, like that. We are together geographically. Like, on vacation. Yeah.” Zac laughs nervously and makes vague negative hand gestures. This is the second time today someone’s assumed. Why was it so hard to say it this time around?

Sarah’s eyes widen as she furiously tries to backpedal. “I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, I just thought - well, you - oh no -” She smacks her forehead.

“Hey, no, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Zac says, waving her off. “We’ve been getting it a lot. We decided to buy matching hats to be cheesy and it’s backfiring spectacularly. The rings don’t make it much better.”

Sarah looks at his outstretched hand and laughs. “Phew, alright. Sorry again. You two just seem so at ease with each other. Reminds me a lot of myself and Casey. We were friends first.”

“You two are really cute together,” Zac says, swiftly changing the subject to what they’re doing here. She takes the bait, going off into how they really like HalfNoise and how they’re big Paramore fans. Small blessings. They really are sweethearts, non obtrusive, just interested in a conversation. 

After a few more moments of playful interaction, they give the girls big hugs and send them on their way. Casey drags Sarah toward the water as Sarah lets herself be pulled along, looking like she’s falling in love all over again.

“I wish every fan interaction went like that,” Zac says to break their silence. “Way too many people yell about it.”

“They’re sweet,” Taylor says. “It’s kind of cool they can just be open like that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zac says. He bites the bullet: “Sarah thought we were together.”

Taylor’s face is, for some reason, completely neutral. How is he so calm about it? “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Zac says. “She thought we acted like we were together. The hats, you know.” 

Taylor laughs genuinely, touching the top of his hat. “Hey, it’s not our fault we look awesome. They’re probably just jealous of how well coordinated we are.”

“True,” Zac says, nodding gravely. “Does it bother you, though? That people think we’re together?”

Taylor looks up, lips twisted, seemingly in thought. Zac’s stomach is cold. Finally, he looks at Zac, eyes shy, childlike. “I’m just happy we’re friends again. I missed you.”

Zac’s so taken aback that it takes him a second to process the words. “Me too. On both counts.”

“Let’s get our asses to the beach before all the good spots are taken, yeah?” Taylor says, exhaling. He lets out a joyful noise and throws his arms open. “We’re going to the fucking beach! In February!”

“Reel it in, tiger, let’s go,” Zac says, clapping him on the shoulder and walking ahead of him. Make it a game. All he needs is to get his hands to stop shaking. 

-

_”Sake is gross,” Taylor says, taking a huge swig from the bottle._

_“Then why are you drinking it?” Zac says, as he snatches the bottle away from Taylor and takes a gulp himself._

_They’ve been at this for a while. Everyone else has either gone to sleep or to explore the city. Since the two of them did that yesterday, they’re getting shitty in a hotel room overlooking Tokyo proper. They’ve all retreated to their separate corners of their temporary living quarters, tension coming off their group in waves. Everyone at the festival feels it. Their crew feels it. Taylor deals with melancholy in the way he always has - being too much and too abrasive. Usually Zac’s tendencies toward being sullen cancel it out, but not today. Today hasn’t been a good day._

_Taylor shrugs. “Because you can drink before age twenty one here. And because it’s fun.”_

_“Those are pretty good reasons,” Zac says, level, not wanting to start an argument because he’s pissy at the rest of the world._

_“Give that back,” Taylor says, taking the bottle from Zac and chugging what little is left. “Aaaaahhh.”_

_“You really just drank the rest of that,” Zac says, “after bitching about how gross it is. After you didn’t pay a cent for it.”_

_“Yeah,” Taylor says, laughing. He’s a giggler when he’s drunk (which he is right now - they both are, he reminds himself as the room shakes a little). Normally Zac thinks it’s endearing; right now, it’s infuriating._

_“It’s not fucking funny, dude, it’s really annoying,” Zac says, and he knows he’s probably too angry about something this small, but he doesn’t care._

_“Well, what are you going to do about it?”_

_It’s a challenge, a trap for him to walk into, but Zac falls for it hook, line, and sinker. Zac pounces on Taylor, who meets him halfway, his high pitched laughter mixed with Zac’s growls of frustration. This bed is huge, the biggest he’s ever been on, so there’s plenty of room for them to roll around and make a fuss. Taylor always does shit like this, whether it’s drinking the last of something Zac paid for or stealing the clothes he was going to wear for the show. It feels good to get that aggression at him out._

_He’s not sure if he’s even really mad about that specifically. Things have just been tense in general, with Hayley and Josh sparring all the time, Jeremy sticking by Hayley’s side, him getting dragged into his brother’s fight that he doesn’t really feel a part of. Taylor’s caught in the middle of all this, asked to join when they’re falling apart. Maybe he kind of needs this too, given how his laughter gives way to a troubled silence, face contorting into a snarl as he tries to get the upper hand._

_“What the fuck is up your ass, man?” Taylor manages to get out as he blocks a swing._

_Zac dodges Taylor’s hands and pins him to the bed with his shoulder. “You’re always being an asshole. Taking my stuff and eating my food and just - why do you do that -”_

_“That’s not why you’re mad, dude, don’t front,” Taylor says, shoving him up and grabbing his wrists. “Now you can keep sulking like you’re five or you can just say what the hell is bothering you.”_

_Zac twists to kick Taylor’s shin with his converse. The pain is enough for Taylor to loosen his hands; Zac uses that momentum to free his wrists and do the same to Taylor. He pins his wrists above his head and straddles him, squeezing his hips together so he can’t move._

_They’re entirely still for what feels like an eternity, staring each other in the eye, panting in unison. Taylor’s face is red from exertion, razor burned from a fresh shave, his mouth parted and damp. His eyes are glassy, the incandescent hotel lamp casting them a soft brown. Suddenly, Zac is aware of his entire body, mostly in relation to where he’s touching Taylor - seated on his knees, hands circling his wrists and pulsing with pressure at random. There’s a pang of something hot in his chest that trickles down, pooling in his belly._

_Zac’s not sure entirely what has him leaning down, but Taylor’s already lifting up, and they’re kissing, hot and messy and desperate. Zac lets go of Taylor’s wrists and brings his arms around his body as Taylor does the same. His brain is fuzzy with sake and pure lust. He can’t get close enough, kiss deeply enough, shove hard enough, he and Taylor on their little planet._

_“Fuck,” Taylor groans when his hand meets Zac’s bare skin under his shirt. He runs his nails down Zac’s back. “When have you had time to get good at kissing? Jesus...”_

_“Stop talking, you’re always fucking talking,” Zac half groans from the feel of Taylor’s nails._

_Taylor says nothing, just angles his hips and his lips up. He seals his lips over Zac’s, and he feels a rush of air and a sudden nasty taste._

_“Did you just burp into my mouth?” Zac says. Of course he would, the little shit. “You’re nasty, man.”_

_“Your face right now, though,” Taylor says, speech booze-slurred, punctuated with a giggle that turns into a hiccup. “Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”_

_“Ew, I can taste it.”_

_“No, you taste it because you were kissing me,” Taylor says. “Which is something you should get back to doing.”_

_“I don’t know,” Zac says, even though he’s already leaning in, even though a million alarms are going off in his head. “You’re rude.”_

_“Shut up, you’re rude,” Taylor says into Zac’s closed lips. “Telling me I’m nasty.”_

_“If you want me to kiss you, you have to stop talking,” Zac says, pulling away even as Taylor chases him. “You’re nasty.”_

_“Am not,” Taylor says, falling back and waiting._

_Zac doesn’t feel like having this argument, so finally closes the gap between them, kissing Taylor so hard his lips will be red for hours and hours. He’s happy no one is going to be back for a while, because the noise Taylor makes is outright filthy. He’s down to do whatever he can so that can happen again, because he never wants to stop hearing it. He bites down on Taylor’s lower lip and slowly drags his teeth across it, making Taylor squirm beneath him._

_He’s drunk. Taylor’s drunk. Taylor doesn’t like guys and... well, he’s not sure about himself, but this is going to end badly if he doesn’t stop. And yet, he can’t bring himself to care, especially not with Taylor whimpering when he pauses for this contemplation._

_“Zachary,” Taylor says, in a chilling impersonation of his mother._

_“Fine, fine,” Zac says and dips down to suck on Taylor’s earlobe. He knows better than to leave marks. They both do._

_Taylor laughs nervously, in that turned-on sort of way, and arches his back into Zac’s tight grip. Zac lets his hands roam Taylor’s body, one hand dipping under his shirt. He tentatively presses his palm between Taylor’s legs, wondering if that’s okay; from the way Taylor groans and presses up into his hand, he’s pretty sure it’s alright._

_“Feels so good,” Taylor says, fucked out, pressing up more._

_“Do you want more?” Zac says, rubbing his hand in circles on Taylor’s crotch._

_“Mmm, yes,” Taylor says. “So much. I don’t know if we should though.”_

_Zac’s heart falls. Fuck, he went too far. He takes his hand away. “Why not?”_

_Taylor pushes up to give him a firm kiss. “It’s not you. It’s the others. They won’t understand. There’s so much going on already...”_

_Oh. The others. In his sex-addled brain, he had forgotten that the others wouldn’t be too keen. Yeah, that makes sense. “Yeah, I totally get it. Let’s go to sleep or something.”_

_“Stay with me, though?” Taylor asks, big hazel eyes worried. “I know you’re pissed off at me, and I totally deserve it, but please.”_

_For all his deadpan humor and brutal sarcasm, Taylor is the more wide-eyed of the two at times. Zac rolls off Taylor and ends up pulling him into his chest. Maybe he didn’t go too far. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I can be mad at you ever. I’m just mad at everything else. Us fighting all the time. And you having to be in the middle. It’s not fair to you. You just got in the band and now we’re falling apart.”_

_“It’s okay,” Taylor says. “I’m playing with my favorite band and hanging out with you every day. It’s worth it.”_

_They fall asleep tangled up in one another, Taylor’s hand splayed on his bare back beneath his shirt. They wake up. They wake up and smile, but don’t talk about it. They joke around about everything else, getting drunk and shitty sake, but they don’t talk about it. They never talk about it, no matter how many times Zac wants to. They never talk about it, even when Zac sees a resolute look in Taylor’s eyes. It dies, of course. It always dies. They’re silent, and it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s absolutely fucking fine._

-

They’ve settled down in a quiet part of the beach, after a few near misses with some curious stares. (There’s only so much fan interaction Taylor can take before he shuts down; Zac would very much like a conversational partner for the rest of the day, thanks.) Even though it’s the late afternoon at this point, the sun is still blinding, and Zac wishes they had brought an umbrella. He fumbles around their mutual bag for his sunglasses, looking so intently that he misses Taylor pulling off his shirt. He has his sunglasses on and is finishing his sunblock application when he notices. He nearly drops the bottle in surprise when he hands it to Taylor.

“You’ve finally joined the land of regular dudes at the beach,” Zac says, instead of blurting out ‘hey Taylor, you have a really nice body, where have you been hiding that’.

Taylor laughs, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses. “I figure the last day, might as well get roasted a little. And it’s you, you’re not gonna tease me.”

“I have so many more things to tease you about,” Zac says. “I should at least try to be clever about it.” 

Taylor laughs, and they fall into a momentary amicable silence, until Taylor pauses in his sunblock application. “Are you seriously not putting sunblock on your back?” 

Zac shrugs. “I’m not a ghost like you - don’t flip me off, you know it’s true. And I can’t reach so what’s the point?”

“I can put in on your back,” Taylor says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and not a disaster waiting to happen. “I was gonna ask you to do the same for me. It’s logical.”

Zac didn’t think the situation could get any more dire, but then Taylor had to go and say that. He knows he can mentally behave himself, but his body has been regressing more and more lately being this close to Taylor. The last time his absurdly dainty hands were on him, they were fighting. Zac’s not fifteen anymore, so he’ll be under control downstairs, but he still takes great care in sitting up straight and keeping on guard. 

Taylor does a rubdown of sunblock into his back, good and deep so that none of it shows on his skin. Standard, not unlike one his mother used to do for him when he was a kid (or his girlfriends later, albeit with smaller hands, savoring it longer). It does feel a bit better that before, not as dry under the blazing sun. But he’s not taking his hands off. Rather, he’s pressing his fingertips into his back, random places - nape of the neck, shoulder blades, mid back, lower back. It’s a pattern, as though he’s planning something. Zac wants to melt into his touch, but keeps his cool.

“What’s stressing you out?” Taylor asks after a few cycles. 

_Besides everything?_ “Nothing? I’m on vacation, dude,” Zac says, hoping he’s convincingly confused.

“Your back is like Tension City,” Taylor says. “Um. Lie on your stomach?”

“What?” Zac says, though he heard him loud and clear.

“It’ll be easier for me to massage you if you’re on your stomach,” Taylor says.

“Oh, okay, heh,” Zac says. Well, that’s a relief. He might not be a teenager but there’s only so much a man can take before he’s in the dire straits. 

He lies on his stomach and turns his head to the side, closing his eyes and waiting for the inevitable. He feels a solid weight on one of his thighs, a sense that Taylor is holding back his true weight. His hands knead into Zac’s lower back and Zac exhales with relief. Disregarding that his hands feel good, the loosening of tight muscles feels so good. As he works his way up Zac’s back, he takes extra care to not hurt him if he cries out a little in pain, saying a little, “I know, it’s okay,” which is weirdly reassuring. When he gets to Zac’s neck, Zac lets out a little rattle with the press of his thumbs at the nape. (He’s allowed one noise. He’s kept it to breaths this whole time. He deserves a medal.)

“Okay, now me,” Taylor says when Zac sits up. 

“Do you also need a massage?” Zac says, entirely as a joke, but then Taylor is lying on his stomach.

“It would be nice,” Taylor says, shrugging and shifting the towel. 

For Taylor, maybe, but for Zac, today has been one of mishaps and minor mayhem, and it’s only four in the afternoon. He may as well dive off the deep end and straddles Taylor’s thighs, carefully avoiding his ass. He squeezes a few stripes of sunblock on his back and starts to rub. He has little to no clue how to be a masseuse, so he’s just doing stuff he’s seen other people do. The hand dicing thing, deep pressure, heel of his hand, fists. Taylor isn’t tense in a lot of places, but his neck is really bad, so much so that when Zac rubs it out, Taylor lets out a mixed cry of relief and pain. It’s high and breathy, and Taylor probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it shoots white hot between Zac’s legs. Nope, not doing this right now.

“Race you to the water!” Zac says, running and diving into the crystal clear waves. The one thing he told himself he wasn’t going to do happened. Taylor doesn’t seem to notice, as he tears after him and makes it in one second after Zac. Maybe he didn’t feel it. Zac hopes not.

They swim for quite a while, so much that the sun shifts in the sky and many of the people who were at the beach when they first got there have gone home. Taylor proposes ice cream, which sounds awesome - Zac’s been paranoid about sweet stuff (he’s still getting used to not being the weight he used to be) but if they split it, it’ll be harmless. He proposes that idea to Taylor and he nods. His sweet tooth is super limited anyway. 

When they get to the counter, the vendor looks about sixteen and extremely bored, reading a magazine. Taylor lets out a little noise of frustration and his head perks up.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, looking at Taylor. “What can I get for you?

“You’re allowed to read magazines, it’s fine,” Taylor says. He turns to Taylor and whispers, “So I haven’t peed in like five hours?”

Zac rolls his eyes fondly. “How could you not notice that? You could have gone in the ocean.” To the kid: “Just a second.” Back to Taylor, who’s laughing: “You suggested ice cream, what do you want?”

“Chocolate, whatever, something. Be back in five if I don’t get lost.” He smiles at the kid and briskly walks off, desperately trying not to run.

“One, please,” Zac says as he watches Taylor break into a run finally. “Chocolate.”

“Just one...?” the kid says, while he’s setting it up. His eyes widen for some reason. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that!”

“There’s nothing wrong with splitting something so it’s cheaper...?” Zac says. Do people not share stuff here?

“Oh, okay,” the kid says, looking somewhat relieved, handing him the cone. “I thought you were. You know, it’s just strange for two guys to... There’s nothing wrong with it. So you know.”

Halfway through what he’s saying, Zac realizes that, once again, people think they’re dating. What the hell? They’re not doing anything they haven’t been doing this entire time. Why now?

“We’re not dating, so don’t worry about it,” Zac says, and he can’t keep the exasperation out of his voice. “It’s funny, it’s been happening a lot today. Maybe it’s just the cologne I put on, I dunno.” He and the kid share a laugh at that.

Of course, Taylor shows up at that exact moment, scaring the crap out of him. He takes the cone out of Zac’s hand and starts eating it, the bastard. “Predictably, I got lost. How much?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zac says. He turns to the kid, ignoring Taylor glaring at him. “Have a good one.”

The kid’s skeptical look returns to his face, but it’s laced with downright glee. “You too, alright? Enjoy it.”

They walk along the boardwalk in the direction of the house, as both of them desperately need showers. Taylor’s taken care to make sure Zac gets at least a small amount of the ice cream, but chocolate’s in his top five, so he’s eaten most of it. The cone is Zac’s favorite part anyway, so he’s eating that when he notices Taylor’s got some on the corner of his lip. He reflexively reaches out to wipe it off with his fingertip, but something holds him back. He doesn’t need to do that. They’re not together, Taylor can do it himself.

“What’s up?” Taylor says. They’ve stopped walking.

“You’ve got some on the corner on your lip,” Zac says, pointing it out on his own face as a mirror.

Taylor makes an abortive gesture to wipe it off with his finger, but thinks better of it. Instead, he sticks out his tongue and starts to lick it off. Usually, that kind of action is comical, but this feels some kind of deliberate, slow and careful, his eyes relaxed. Zac feels his mouth run dry. Taylor needs to stop. It’s off, it’s been off for a few seconds, but Zac neglects to tell him because he’s a glutton for punishment.

“It’s off,” Zac says finally. “Good job. Five stars.”

“Thanks,” Taylor says, dry as Zac’s lips are. “Let’s go home, I feel disgusting.”

-

_“Oh, so you’re just gonna follow him? That’s what it’s come down to?”_

_“You’re gonna fucking stay? You don’t even know them! We’re the ones you know -”_

_“You’re the one I know,” Taylor spits. “You’re the one I know, and you’re just going because Josh dictates your life, I see.”_

_He’s hopped on the bandwagon of thinking Zac’s a pawn, that’s just fantastic. “I’m not some kind of pawn. We all have to make sacrifices. You think I want a rift in my fucking family? Sorry it matters a little more to me than it does to you, apparently.”_

_“Justin is the reason we got anywhere! You think I don’t care about my family - this band was born in my parents’ basement! Does that not count?”_

_“You’re always lording that over people’s heads, you know? But Josh was the one who pulled the band up. He wrote music, he cared so much about things. Imagine having that dashed because of your ex’s ego, her words? Does she even believe in God anymore? Do you?”_

_Taylor scoffs, and never has a dismissive sound been so cutting. “Do I believe in God, what kind of a question is that? I kept peace when you were at each other’s throats practically and now you’re coming after me. I know you have problems with Hayley and Jeremy, but it’s a low blow to call me blasphemous.”_

_Zac closes his eyes. He’s angry, it’s not right, he shouldn’t use this, he knows he’s going to regret it the second after the words leave his lips but he’s so angry at Taylor for staying with them, with her, for letting himself be a player in the Hayley Show -_

_“Blasphemy is pretty low on the list for you, though, isn’t it? I can think of a million more things you’ve done that sealed the deal.”_

_If looks could kill, Zac would be a pile of ashes on the floor. “What. Did you just say.”_

_Zac regrets it, regretted it the instant he said it, wants to take it back so bad, but he has to stand his ground - “You know exactly what I said.”_

_Taylor walks toward him like a panther ready to pounce. They’re the same height, but Taylor’s broad shoulders make him look imposing. “Do you think you’re above all this? That it was just me?”_

_“You came onto me -” Zac hears himself say as he pushes Taylor back, some version of himself intending to hurt, to rip apart -_

_Taylor punches him in the stomach, his superior strength knocking the wind out of Zac. When Zac looks up, he can see he’s crying. “I know I’m queer - some version of it anyway. You know what though? You are too. You’re a bigger queer than me because you’re a fucking coward and hide behind lies. You wanted it just as much as I did and you know it. You’re weak, pathetic -”_

_Zac shuts him up in the only way he knows how - backing him into a wall and kissing him so hard their teeth click. Taylor, of course, pushes back in kind - he can’t not. They’ve always drawn to each other, like magnets, moths to a lantern that will surely burn them. There’s nothing nice or loving about this kiss - it’s ‘fuck you,‘ it’s ‘you’re killing me,’ it’s ‘I don’t know how to hate you but I wish I did.’ They’re both crying, heaving the weight of remorse onto each other’s bodies. Zac has never loved anyone so much in his whole life, but he’s never been so angry at someone either. When they wrench themselves apart, they stare at each other with eyes wide and chests heaving from lack of breath._

_“Never speak to me again.” With that, Taylor storms out of the room, face crumpled and still stained from tears._

_Zac didn’t know that heartbreak could feel quite like this._

\- 

Zac’s shower, so far, is functional, robotic, only to clean himself off and that’s it. He’s a shower daydreamer, occasional singer, but most of the time he jerks off. Not today. He’s been riled up on and off all day, but the one chance he gets to blow off steam he can’t get it up. Usually, if he touches himself enough, he can get going, but nothing is working. He lets out a scream of frustration.

As his thoughts drift and jumble, he wonders what would happen if Taylor joined him. Zac imagines he would pin him against the shower wall and yank on Zac’s hair while he kissed him. Zac would push back and tangle them together, just let them hold on to each other for a second. Then he would turn the tables and kiss Taylor hard, biting into the junction where neck meets shoulder, maybe play with his nipples a little. Taylor sinks to his knees and... 

Before he realizes it, his hand is flying up and down his cock, biting his lip to keep his inevitable yell unnoticeable. They might be alone in this house, but Taylor already rips on him for any sexual behavior whatsoever. His current fantasies about him, which would go absolutely nowhere, need to be kept a secret. When he comes, it’s to the thought of Taylor’s mouth around his cock, taking it deeper than he probably can in real life. There was a point in time where an inkling of that might have been possible, drunk teenagers in expensive sheets, but that’s long gone.

“Did you fall asleep in there?” Taylor asks when Zac rushes past him from out of the bathroom.

“Dreaming about your mom,” Zac says, cutting off Taylor’s laughter when he shuts the door. 

He didn’t think he needed a shower as much as he did, but it feels good to pull his last clean clothes onto clean skin - slightly warmer, due to the cooling air. These pants used to be Taylor’s a lifetime ago, mixed up in his laundry when they were touring. They actually fit him now, and honestly look way better with his skin tone than they ever looked on Taylor. His last clean shirt is black, and he laughs. If Taylor wears colors (or grey, or white even), they’ll have switched. Why is he thinking so much about their color coordination? He’s almost done when he spots the ring on his nightstand. Should he put it on? Would that be silly? Before he can talk himself out of it, he slides it on his finger. It’s funny how it fits perfectly. 

When he’s done, he wanders outside to the back deck. Awash in thought, he lies back on one of the adirondack chairs that came with the rental. It faces the rocky part of these beaches, the ocean eroding the boulders over time. Who else has been at this house? Have people fallen in love, fallen apart? Have people left not feeling the same, or having tried and failed? It’s hard to know just from looking at the shore, but those decisions are made by now, while his hang in the balance. He stares at his phone, not having used it in the past week or so. He decides to call the one person who can give him clarity in times like these. 

“Would this be a conversation asking how I’ve been in your absence rather than checking if I’m picking you up at the airport?” Josh asks as soon as he picks up the phone.

“How you’ve been, I promise, though it would be nice to know when you’re doing that,” Zac says. “Also I thought I was going to get voicemail.”

Josh makes a noncommittal noise. “Nothing has changed, I assure you. I keep waking up really early because I drink coffee too late at night, but that’s about it. How’s everyone on your end?” 

Zac fills him in on the duration of the vacations - activities, mishaps, sun poisoning for some people - and Josh listens in that way he does where nothing else is important but you. His presence is so strong even thousands of miles away, so much so that when he mentions that everyone has left except Taylor and him, it shifts with his exhale into the aspect of his personality that Zac hates.

“You should tell him,” Josh says, because of course he’s going to say it. He says it every time they talk to each other lately.

Zac sighs. “We’re just getting to be friends again, Josh.”

Josh mirrors his sigh. “You’ve been friends again for long enough.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” Zac says. “I’ve already fucked it up and it’s a miracle he’s giving me a second chance. We didn’t speak for years.”

“He could have picked up the phone in all that time,” Josh says. “Communication is a two way street. And he was cruel too, from what you’ve told me. But you guys sorted out whatever animosity was there. Where I see it, you seem like you’re better off than you ever were.”

“Which is why I don’t want to say anything,” Zac says. “I’d rather just have him as a friend than ruin what we’ve pieced back together. Don’t you get it?”

“Look,” Josh says, in that voice he uses whenever he thinks he has supreme knowledge of a subject. “I’ve never seen you as happy as you are when you’re with him. Or when you talk about him, or it’s anything to do with him. I think that means something.”

“Even if he did feel something for me, it’s probably gone now.” Zac lounges back in his chair and stares up at the setting sun in the sky. It’s hard to believe the day’s only just begun for Josh. “We’re not kids anymore.”

Josh laughs. “You don’t see how he looks at you.”

The problem with Josh is that despite his smug superiority, despite his holier than thou attitude at times, he’s rarely wrong. His intuition about others is a strong point. And really, Zac does want to believe him. But he’s not sure he deserves to be that lucky. He says as much and Josh laughs, fond.

“It’s not about what you deserve, it’s about what you want,” Josh says. “I learned that the hard way. Don’t be like me.”

Zac is about to respond when he sees Taylor open the screen door and step outside. 

“Incoming, gotta go,” Zac says.

“Tell him how you feel,” Josh says.

“Go fuck yourself, bye,” Zac says, not actually meaning it. 

He hangs up the phone, cutting off Josh’s laugh, just as Taylor settles in next to him. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and that stupid fucking pineapple shirt. He’s the worst. He’s also wearing his ring, which Zac refuses to react to. 

“Who was that?” Taylor asks. “Are those pants mine?” 

“Josh,” Zac says. “These pants were yours, like, five years ago. What’s good?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Taylor says. “Well, I’m hungry. To recap, I broke the eggs this morning, which was the only food left. We only have beer for dinner unless we go somewhere -” 

Zac hears his stomach rumble, audible enough for Taylor to hear it too. He giggles. It’s fucking adorable. “So, as I was saying, we should go out. We’ve been good about not doing that the rest of the trip, so today has been a good treat yourself day.”

“Burn some cash,” Zac says. “I’ll treat you to dinner, you know.”

“It’s funny that you think you’re spending a dime,” Taylor says. “Anyway, there’s this little spot, like, fifteen minutes from here by car? The guy at the consignment shop was talking about it. It shouldn’t be too crowded around this time, should be good.”

Since Taylor is the only one out of the two of them who actually understands driving on the wrong side of the road (Zac nearly got them killed one time by veering to the right), he’s in charge of driving. They laugh and joke along the way about the various things that have happened over the course of their vacation - Sarah and Casey, doing Lord of the Rings stuff again (it’ll never get old), and how much they’ll miss it here.

“I wish we could just transplant Nashville here,” Taylor says. “I know that sounds dumb but that’s the only thing this place is missing.”

“That and cars being on the right side of the road,” Zac says, to which Taylor rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a baby about the dumbest shit,” he says, glancing at him for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. “You could say you miss your family, your friends, good barbecue, but no - you’re concerned about driving on the left side.”

“The steering wheel is wrong!” Zac says. They’ve been over this many times and Zac doesn’t know why Taylor can’t accept that he’s wrong. “As for the other stuff, you’re tolerable company, so I should be good.”

Taylor smiles that sunshine smile that makes his stomach swerve.

It’s about an hour and a half to closing when he and Taylor walk finally make it to the pace. Zac goes to apologize, feeling like a jerk for coming this late, but instead of glaring at them, the middle aged waitress (Lola, according to her name tag) just flashes a smile.

“We were mobbed in the middle of the day. Couples, families, huge groups of mates, all that,” she says, the exhaustion in her voice wheezing its way to the surface. “You two seem like you’re quiet, thank God.”

“He is, I’m not,” Zac states, just a fact, but the waitress giggles as Taylor looks at him thoughtfully. 

“You drag conversation out of him, I’m sure,” she says, eyes wicked. “Sit wherever you like, boys.”

 _Oh great, someone else thinks we’re dating._ They sit at a table by the window, looking over a scenic view of a mountain range. It’s all cheesy, and he manages to catch Taylor’s eye to convey a ‘what the fuck’ at the whole situation. Instead of commiserating with him, Taylor just shrugs and looks at the menu. Zac does the same. They’ve been good about cooking and cutting corners to have money for other stuff. It feels nice to not have to do any of that.

“How big are the portions?” Taylor asks. He’s gained a few pounds on this trip (Zac thinks it makes him look better, he gets too skinny sometimes) and he’s always been the more health conscious of the two of them.

Lola thinks for a second. “The entrees are fairly big - two people could split one and have leftovers. That helpful, any?”

Taylor glances at Zac before flashing his winning interview smile at her. “Very helpful.”

Zac sees the moment where she falls a little in love with him - it happens with everyone who gets this side of Taylor. He’s seen it in real time - even when he’s a cheeky little shit, people are drawn to him. He feels himself getting stupidly, irrationally jealous. Before he can cause any damage, Lola disappears into the back briefly before reappearing with two glasses and a bottle. 

“We have just enough of this left for two people,” she says, setting the flutes on the table. “Sparkling. Chef’s gonna pour it down the sink if it’s not gone. Bubbly for your date? On the house.” 

"Oh no, we -"

"Would love some, thank you," Taylor says, reaching out for Zac's hand across the table and smiling at him. “That’s very generous of you.” 

"Absolutely," the waitress says, pouring a generous amount in each glass. “Is it just the two of you on holiday?”

“Well, now it is,” Taylor says. “We came with a bunch of friends but we decided to stay behind a few days. Have the house to ourselves.”

“That must be so nice,” she says, winking. Zac can’t help but feel a little exposed, even if what she’s implying is entirely nonexistent. 

Taylor looks at Zac and lays it on thick, even batting his eyelashes a little, the bastard. “You could definitely say that.”

“I’ll leave you two to it, then! Be back later,” she says, flashing them a devilish smile before floating to the back.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" Zac whispers when she's out of earshot.

"We just got free booze, man, roll with it," Taylor whispers back. "It'll be a funny story."

 _For you, maybe. I'm just gonna get my stupid hopes up._ “I feel bad.”

“Don’t. We’re probably never gonna see her again. Live a little.”

"If the booze is free..." Zac says, because he’s a masochist.

Taylor smiles wide, this time genuine. "That's what I like to hear."

Zac can't help but smile back; Taylor still hasn't let go of his hand even as he pays attention to the menu. The ache in his chest is subsiding the slightest bit. At least he has tonight to pretend they could be something more than their strange version of friends.

It's... Well, it's just nice. More than that, of course, given their actual circumstances, but if they were together this would just be a quiet night out. They make faces at each other over the menu, brush fingers when passing things across the table, the whole nine. They even play footsy under the table, which is almost too much, but Taylor’s face is enough to make it alright. They split everything they order (so the bill is less, swear to God). It tastes better when Taylor shoves a piece of steak in his face for him to bite off rather than him feeding himself. At one point, unlike before, Zac wipes off the corner of Taylor’s mouth with his own napkin. By the time their meal is over, Zac’s sides hurt from laughing so hard. He hasn’t had this much fun in ages. 

"How did you meet?" Lola asks as she takes the signed receipt from Taylor. “Sorry if that’s intruding, you just look so happy. It’s sweet to see.”

(They made a big show before of who was paying when she gave them the check, an augmented version of what they usually do, and Taylor won. His wallet was just closer is all. Zac is completely capable of paying for stuff.)

"Um, well..." Zac feels his cheeks heating up. He looks at Taylor with pleading eyes. _You got us into this, now you have to get us out._

"You don't have to tell me, love, it's really fine -"

"He's just a private person," Taylor says, looking at him fondly. "We met when we were kids."

"Aww, childhood sweethearts," she says, putting her hand on her heart.

"Well, we were best friends right away at least. We hung out pretty much all the time, skateboarded, played in a dopey little band together -" they both share a secret look at that - "all that. Then we got into high school and I started feeling different when I was around him."

"Ah yes. It was like that with me and my husband," she says.

"No kidding. Yeah, like, I was shy about all this stuff I used to be fine with. Seeing him shirtless or hugging him or sharing a bed when we had to. I felt like an idiot around him all the time, and he wasn't doing anything differently, just being his sweet self."

Zac looks at him curiously, hoping it comes off as intent listening. He's not sure if his mind is playing tricks on him or if Taylor's being specific. When he tries to catch Taylor’s eyes, he only gets them for a fleeting moment, then they’re back on Lola.

"And we started working together, so I was around him all the time. Before I could just retreat, but I was faced with my feelings every day. Yeah, there were near misses... We were teenagers, hormones raging, and...”

Taylor starts floundering, panic crossing his face. Despite his own confusion, Zac steps in to save him. _Vague, Farro, keep it vague._ "You see, we were across the world again and piss drunk -"

"We don't want to scare the nice lady," Taylor says, squeezing his hand as a ‘thank you for not leaving me hanging.’

“To be honest, it’s kind of hard to pinpoint an exact moment we started dating,” Zac says. “We kind of just stopped not dating, if that makes sense. We shifted into more than friends. Which is always how I dreamed of it happening.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one before, but I guess it could fit,” Lola says, shrugging. "Well do you have a guess of how long you’ve been together?"

"What would you say, honey?" Taylor says, raising his eyebrows with an evil smirk. Bastard.

“Again, hard to say,” Zac says. Taylor’s eyebrows raise. “I guess this time of year, which is part of the reason we came here. We don’t really keep track of anniversaries. And besides, I feel like I've loved him since I met him."

It's the most bare bones he's ever been, even with everything that’s been said during this conversation. Nothing pretend here - it's out there. Taylor's breath hitches - inaudible to Lola, but Zac has been fluent in Taylor for half his life. Just from that, he knows he’s gone too far.

"You see, he's really a huge softie," Taylor says, ever the performer. "That's why he's private when it comes to that."

"I'd make everyone throw up with how gross I am," Zac agrees.

They hand her the bill and make prolonged goodbyes, promising to visit again the next time they’re in the country. She wishes them the best of luck and to have a good night with a wink. The ride back is largely silent. Where there would normally be jabbing and bullshitting is stony silence. Taylor has an iron grip on the steering wheel and doesn’t even look up at the rearview mirror, just stares straight ahead until they get back to the house. He gets out of the car and walks toward the house, glancing back to make sure Zac is following. Up the steps, through the door, past the foyer and living room and into the kitchen toward the back deck. 

Zac really needs a beer right the fuck now, so he manages to angle past Taylor and barge his way into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and for the only time in his life, is upset that PBR isn’t readily available. He takes the local equivalent out instead and opens the can, taking a huge gulp. He knows Taylor is there, but can’t bear to look at him until he clears his throat, a demand. Looking up, Zac’s heart clenches at the desperate look in Taylor’s eyes. Zac did this. He’s despicable. He looks away again.

"Zac," Taylor says. 

Zac knows that tone, and he can't have this conversation right now. "Food was pretty good, don't you think?"

"Look at me,” Taylor says, with such authority that Zac’s head snaps in place reflexively. 

“You have my full attention, Mr. York,” Zac says, hoping the formality will soften Taylor’s edges, like it usually does.

Of course, it doesn’t. If anything, it makes it worse. The set of Taylor’s jaw could cut diamonds. “Did you mean what you said? About loving me since we met. Shifting into something more together.”

What should he do? Should he lie? It’s tempting, the easy option. They can pretend it was a fun game to get some discounted food and call it a night. They could occasionally tell the story for some laughs at get togethers with their friends. ‘Remember that time we pretended to be gay?‘ Looking across the room at Taylor with his arms crossed, folded into himself like a wounded animal, he realizes he can’t do that. He’s tired of running from this. They’ve been dancing around each other since they were kids, this unspoken something else, each time on the precipice of something more. Enough is enough. Zac would rather risk losing what they have than spend any more time in this limbo. 

"Yes," Zac says slowly, making sure the words come out in the right order. "I meant what I said. It’s always been you."

There’s a moment where they’re just staring at each other, breathing in sync. In the larger scheme of things, it’s probably seconds, but it feels like an eternity. Zac can’t tell if he’s just made the biggest mistake or the best move of his life. His brain is telling his feet to move, his arms to reach out and pull Taylor close. His heart is telling him to kiss Taylor. But why aren’t they moving. Why is time still. Why - 

“Fuck this,” Taylor says. He crosses the distance between them to grab either side of Zac’s face, crushing their mouths together.

The surge forward is enough to drive Zac backward, the kiss uninterrupted even when Zac’s back hits the wall and he drops his beer. They both jump at the splash on their ankles, but they’ll clean it up later. The kiss is sloppy and immature, but Zac's so far gone that he'll take anything and everything. His hands scramble for purchase on Taylor's sides and end up stacked on Taylor’s back as he squeezes him tight. It’s what Japan should have been, how their last argument should have ended, but they were too young then. Maybe they’re old enough to handle something this all encompassing. 

"I love you," Taylor sobs when they pause for air, big gulps of chilly beach atmosphere. "I love you, I love you-"

"I love you too," Zac says. "So, so much -"

"Everything I said in there was true," Taylor says, and he's crying, but he's also laughing. "Man, that time we shared a bed when the heat broke and I kissed you because you were crying...”

"I remember that,” Zac says, crying and laughing too. “I was crying because I wanted you and it felt wrong.”

"I was going to kiss you anyway," Taylor says. He kisses Zac's nose, which tickles.

"I realized I had a crush on you at my thirteenth birthday party, so you can imagine what was going on for me," Zac says.

Taylor grins. "My hot bod."

“Something like that,” Zac laughs, suddenly nervous.

Taylor gives him a few consecutive pecks, smiling into every one of them. “I wish I could tell you some kind of exact moment, but I feel like things just gradually went from friendly to panicking because you smiled at me.” 

That’s so fucking cute. He feels himself move forward this time, pressing on Taylor’s back so there’s no space between them at all. It earns him a soft, private “ah,” so unlike their boisterous banter when they’re with others. This is just for him. In this moment, Taylor belongs to him, and he belongs to Taylor.

Before he can stop himself, Zac is babbling. "The first time I jacked off was that night. I thought about you. Like just kissing, I was too freaked out by even that to think about anything more."

Taylor is silent, all deliberate breath and pretty eyes. Zac frantically backpedals. "Sorry, that was too much information."

"I used to sleep in shirts I stole from your house," Taylor says, equally bewildered. “I still do.”

"Is that where my Op Ivy shirt went?" When Taylor nods, Zac smacks him lightly on the arm.

“Yeah,” Taylor says as he nuzzles into Zac's shoulder. “And the shirt I was wearing this morning.”

“I knew it! I mean, you look better in it than I ever did, but still...” 

Taylor laughs, shaking his "We're so dumb. Like, we hooked up more than once and didn't get the hint."

Zac kisses his forehead. "I'm glad that it took this long, I think. We’ve fucked up enough with other people that we’ll do better, hopefully."

“Definitely,” Taylor says. “None of this maybe shit.” 

Zac pauses, unsure of how to phrase his next question. "How far do you want to go?"

"Uh," Taylor starts, face red hot even in the dim lights. "All the way? That's so forward."

"No that's," Zac says. "That's good. Really, really good."

“We should go back,” Taylor whispers. The moonlight from the backdoor window creates shadows on his wrecked face. “To my room.”

“Yeah, we should,” Zac says. He can’t help but steal another kiss, now that he can do that whenever he wants. 

The house is empty, so they can be as loud as they like, but they still tiptoe up the creaky stairs toward Taylor’s room (he got there first, so he got the best bed). Taylor’s holding his hand like he’s going to disappear if he lets go. When they reach the top of the stairs, Taylor tugs him along at lightning speed, not even looking back at him until they reach his room. As soon as they get there, Zac shuts the door on instinct. When he goes to open it, Taylor shakes his head.

“I kind of want it closed,” Taylor says. “So it’s ours, you know?”

“Yeah, I can get that,” Zac says as he leans in.

The kiss is even rougher this time around, filthy and open mouthed, like they’re fighting for some kind of dominance. Zac can’t keep his hands off Taylor’s body as they roam and explore. He slides his hands into the back pockets of Taylor’s cutoffs and squeezes his ass while Taylor practically bites his mouth. 

“Let me,” Taylor says. He tears himself away from Zac’s lips and starts sucking high on his neck, sure to leave a dark purple splotch on Zac’s sun tanned skin. “Wanna mark you up. Have everyone see.”

“Good, I want people to see,” Zac says (fuck, it feels good, it feels _so good_ ). 

With one last kiss he parts ways with Zac’s neck and tugs at the bottom of his t-shirt. “Off, off.”

“Only if you do too,” Zac says as he tugs it off, muffled by the cloth passing over his face.

Taylor pulls off his own shirt, giving Zac a chance to admire his torso. He’s always been kind of gangly, but he’s filled out nicely in recent years. Taylor seems to be appraising him as well. He gently places his hands on Zac’s neck. He takes his time dragging his hands over Zac’s shoulders and down his chest to his stomach, settling them in the groove of his waist when he leans in to kiss Zac again. His thumbs rub circles on Zac’s abdomen.

“Baby fat no more,” Zac says into Taylor’s mouth.

“I liked your baby fat,” Taylor says. “Not that I don’t like this. This is great. It was just soft when I hugged you.”

Zac gasps, mock offended, but gives Taylor a kiss on the cheek so he’s doubly aware of the jest. “We were pretty touchy feely when we were kids, weren’t we? Way more than we should have been at that age.”

“I definitely made excuses for us to touch,” Taylor says. “I’ll own up to it. Totally orchestrated situations, like trying to make the best comment so you’d high five me or hug me. Which is like, so lame. Or teasing you so much you’d tackle me.”

Zac’s gut twists a little when he thinks about those afternoons in his basement. Sometimes it would just be an offhanded remark, sometimes something cutting, but either way they’d end up tangled up in each other, rolling around the floor. They’d fight until they were sweaty and panting, shirts riding up, Zac trying desperately to will away his hard on. He remembers the nights after, getting off to the memory of what transpired before, the possibility of the scuffle leading to something else. To know that Taylor crafted them to quell similar desires is a crash of euphoria. The things he used to do, too...

“I wanted you so much,” Zac says. “Before I even knew what that really meant. I mean, I still want you, but now I have you.”

“You definitely do,” Taylor says, hooking his fingers into Zac’s belt loops. “Off?”

“Off,” Zac agrees, and they separate (reluctantly on both ends) to handle that issue. In his eagerness, Zac accidentally pulls off both his pants and his underwear. Oh well, less work. He steps out of both, tossing them into a corner and throwing himself on the bed. Taylor climbs on top of him, somehow still in his boxers. 

“How do you even fit underwear into those pants?” Zac says. “Not that I’m opposed to the pants. Quite the opposite. You look amazing in them. They look more amazing on the floor though. Oh God, I didn’t mean to -”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Taylor laughs as he runs his hands down either side of Zac’s body and settles them on his hips. He spreads his fingers wide, thumbs resting on the dip of Zac’s pelvis. “I thought I’d be freaking out more about seeing you naked.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” Zac says, sitting up. 

“Yeah, but this is different,” Taylor says as he pulls Zac forward and kisses him soundly.

“Naked with intent,” Zac says. They both smile into the kiss.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” Taylor asks as he drifts down to mouth at Zac’s jaw.

“You’re the only guy I’ve even kissed,” Zac says, head tipping back so Taylor can drift down to his neck. “I’ve thought about it a lot though. Mostly with you.” 

Taylor takes his time coming back up, ending his journey with a sweet kiss on the lips. “Same... How are we going to do this?” 

When Zac doesn’t follow, he makes vague hand gestures between them, indicating - 

“Oh, you mean, who’s gonna.” Zac pauses. He blushes because, well, he’s definitely thought about this scenario more than once (much, much more than once). The premise changes, but the end is always the same: getting thrown on the bed and pinned down, Taylor’s hips slamming into him while he ghosts a hand around Zac’s throat. He’s never shared this part of himself before, compartmentalized to nights alone in cramped bunks and hotel rooms across the world, teeth in his fist, heavy heart. 

It’s so hard to say, but - “I was thinking you’d do me?”

Taylor’s eyes widen just the tiniest bit, but he laughs and makes his Zac impersonation face. “‘I was thinking you’d do me’ - so seductive. Really turns a guy on.”

Zac knows he’s bluffing, from the way his hand traces the inside of his thigh, itching to touch himself, but Zac’s not gonna let him off easy. He pulls Taylor in so that he’s pinning Zac to the headboard, Zac’s legs on either side of his hips. He tugs Taylor’s face close to his, but when Taylor tries to kiss him, he holds his head in place, so close that Taylor could eat his words. 

“You want seductive?” he whispers, even though he could be as loud as he wanted. “Alright. I want you to fuck me. On my back so you have to look at me and I can look down at you inside me. I want you to make me scream and beg and not let up. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk. That I can’t even move. That maybe you can’t even get up afterward, that you just have to crawl beside me. I want you.”

Zac feels a little sick, having laid bare a fantasy he’s had since he’s known what they were capable of doing together. He forces himself to keep up his act, to stare down Taylor and not let him go. Taylor’s mouth is open and panting, eyes heavy lidded, and Zac’s sure he looks the same. When he lets go of Taylor’s face, he immediately surges forward, practically crashing into Zac’s lips, breathing into his mouth with little whimpers. 

“That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Taylor says, like he’s breathing fire. “Let me just -”

Taylor scrambles off him to the other edge of the bed and pulls up his threadbare duffel that he refuses to replace. He rifles around, searching through pockets until he pulls out a set of three condoms, still attached. He examines them and makes a pleased face.    
“What’s up?” Zac says, still hesitant to touch himself. He’s painfully hard but also painfully nervous.

“These aren’t expired by some miracle of God,” Taylor says. 

Zac laughs. “Wishful thinking, eh?”

Taylor shakes his head. “Haven’t taken these out since Parahoy.”

“Baylie, yeah,” Zac says. He hopes he’s keeping inflection out of his voice. He doesn’t want to dislike her - she’s beautiful, sweet as pie, treated Taylor well - but he remembers the months and months of seething jealousy he felt. 

Taylor’s eyes widen with the implication, and he stammers. “Oh I didn’t mean - She’s out of the picture. Not even on my mind. I just mean like, I didn’t think this would ever happen so this is a happy coincidence. No, believe me, I feel like I won the lottery on my birthday.” 

“You’re giving me a toothache over here,” Zac says to cover up his heart skipping.

“Shut your face,” Taylor says, already searching through his bag again. He pulls out a small bottle with a little “aha!”. When Zac realizes it’s lube, he feels his face heating up for some reason - like the condoms weren’t real enough. It isn’t just something to ponder - it’s actually a possibility for tonight. Taylor must see his demeanor change, because he crawls over to give him a kiss. 

“We don’t have to,” he says, and it’s so sweet, so caring. “We can just stop if you want. I’m fine with that.”

“Of course I want to,” Zac says. “I just need to ease in. Kiss me?”

Taylor nods and lies down next to him, stroking his face with his thumb. When he leans in, Zac meets him halfway on instinct, smiling into it. They kiss for a while, slow like they haven’t been able to, just feeling out each other’s signals. The drag of Taylor’s cotton shorts on his naked body is overwhelming; Zac feels himself rubbing against Taylor’s hard on through the cloth. Taylor wants this just as much. It’s bare chest against bare chest, and Zac can’t get close enough. He whines when Taylor pulls himself away. Even in the heat, it feels cold without him.

“Just a second,” Taylor says, fidgeting, and Zac realizes he’s taking his underwear off. He shoves them to the foot of the bed with his feet once they’re off. “Much better.”

They’re just holding each other at this point, lips hovering but not touching. When they roll their hips together, finally nothing separating them, they both let out an identical noise. They laugh, from the absurdity and from the rush of endorphins. Zac is rolling around with his best friend, on a beach house mattress, half a world away from home. He can’t remember a time that he ever felt this good. 

He reaches between them and grasps both of their cocks in his hand, jerking slowly. Taylor’s moan is loud; Zac panics for a brief second before remembering that they’re alone in this house. He echoes Taylor a moment later, panting into his neck, and he’s hit with a rush of emotion. They’ve already had the playful recognition of their feelings, but the deeply cutting truths are bubbling to the surface. This is the pain he’s felt for so long that he’s never allowed himself to process or express. Even though they’re in the here and now, Zac’s having trouble believing this isn’t a dream.

“Wanted to do this so bad -” Taylor breaths out between his gasps. Maybe he’s there too. “Since Japan, since before Japan -”

“Me too,” Zac says, because of course he has, because that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. “I was so scared -”

“I thought you would hate me,” Taylor echoes. “I loved you so much and I thought you would hate me if I ever said anything. And then you left and I thought you _did_ hate me -”

“I could never,” Zac says. “I could never, ever hate you. I was confused and I took that out on you, and I’m sorry. We’re here now -” 

“I’m so grateful, I’m so - Zac, can I fuck you? Please, I want to make you feel good...”

“- yeah, yeah, fuck me, want you, need you -”

“Can you get on your back for me?” Taylor gasps.

Zac reluctantly lets go and shifts onto his back, legs falling open. He ghosts his fingers over his cock as he watches Taylor root around for the bottle of lube where it fell off the bed. It’s a ridiculous sight - just his waist down on the bed itself, and yeah, Taylor really never goes in the sun. Waiting until Taylor least suspects it, he leans over and gives him a hard slap on the ass. Taylor makes a sound that’s halfway between a laugh and a moan, kicking the air in back of him and missing Zac completely. His face is red from exertion when he surfaces, bottle in hand, and they’re both laughing.

“You’re gonna get it,” Taylor says as he nudges Zac’s thighs farther apart.

“I mean, that’s the goal,” Zac says, transfixed on Taylor putting a little lube on his fingers. “Why do you already have that stuff anyway?”

“Because I don’t use spit when I jack off, unlike some people in this room,” Taylor says. laughing when Zac makes a face at him. “Here goes...”

The tiniest brush of Taylor’s fingertips against his asshole makes him jerk. Why does that feel so good? Taylor starts to circle slowly, taking his time and letting Zac get used to that feeling. He feels so relaxed; it even tickles a little, and he grins and shifts his legs. When he looks up at Taylor, there’s a look of utter concentration on his face, focus etched on his pretty features. 

“Hold still,” Taylor says, smiling back. “I’m gonna add a finger. Is that okay?”

“Mhm,” Zac says and wills himself to relax so it’s easier.

The initial slip inside is startling and he automatically tenses up. Taylor strokes his leg and says, “Relax. I’ll be slow.”

“Okay,” Zac says and breathes. 

He relaxes, keeps telling himself to relax, and it starts to feel better. It doesn’t even hurt really, though he imagines it would if Taylor didn’t bite his nails into nothingness. Taylor pushes in a little more, gradually until he’s down to his last knuckle. Zac’s thanking his lucky stars that he showered earlier. 

“I think I’m gonna start moving my finger,” Taylor says. “Is that cool?”

“Please,” Zac says, and Taylor nods.

He starts and... okay, yeah, this is weird, very weird. But it’s... not bad? The motion makes his insides tingle, and he feels little “ah” sounds coming from his mouth, rooted somewhere in his chest. They become more staccato the faster Taylor moves, little jolts of niceness like clockwork.

“Another,” Zac breathes, and Taylor does.

This makes a little more sense, oddly enough, and feels more like a presence than just an intrusion. Taylor’s still measured in his movements, mathematical, and Zac’s along for the ride. He barely notices when he edges in a third finger - in fact, it just adds to how good it feels, lulling him into a haze. He’s rolling with the punches as Taylor experiments with speed, occasionally gasping when Taylor scissors his fingers (fuck, the burn of the stretch). Just when he’s utterly relaxed, Taylor’s fingers crook and hit something in him that startles him wide awake and aware. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he shouts. “I’m sorry I swore, God, I’m sorry I used Your name in vain, but ah, ah -”

“Not for nothing,” Taylor says, pausing, which makes Zac scream in frustration. “But we’re about to engage in sodomy, which is not only a sin but illegal in much of the world. Blasphemy is pretty low on the list.”

“Do you care about any of that?” Zac asks, jerking his hips to no avail. He’s only partially joking.

Taylor actually laughs at that. “Way less than I should, I guess? I do have three fingers up your ass, after all.”

“You have such a way with words,” Zac says, but cries out when Taylor thrusts against that spot again.

“I’m better with my hands,” Taylor says as he starts to move his fingers in earnest. 

If this is how just fingers feel, Zac’s not sure if he’ll be able to handle the real thing - and he means that in the best way possible. He’ll probably come if he touches himself, so his hands are at his sides for the time being, clutching the sheets with an iron grip. Taylor dips in for a kiss. Where his hands are deft and sure, his lips are shy and questioning. _Do you like me? Is this okay?_ Zac hopes he’s able to convey that he does and it is through his reciprocation.

“How do you get the specific - ah, oh - mechanics of this anyway?” Zac asks.

There’s a bit of a bashful silence as Taylor continues to work his fingers, spreading them out on occasion. “I’ve done anal with girls before.” 

That irrational, hot jealousy rips through his body, making his stomach churn, even if it’s mixed with how good Taylor’s fingers feel. He hates even knowing that his girlfriends got this before he did. It’s ridiculous, really - Zac has also had girlfriends, but so often his mind flashed to Taylor. He tries to keep his voice level when he says, “So, roughly the same?”

Taylor pauses and looks down at him, so reassuring. He’s on Zac’s wavelength. “Well, considering I thought about you every time I did that with a girl, I guess?”

Zac sucks in a breath. “Yeah, you should probably fuck me right now.”

Taylor grins and slips his fingers out out gently, sitting up. He tears off a condom from the row and opens the wrapper. It’s only when he starts to put it on that Zac notices how hard his hands are shaking. Normally, they’re so steady, but he actually rips the one he’s handling and has to get another one. He swears under his breath in frustration, face twisting into a grimace.

“Hey, slow down,” Zac says, sitting up and putting a gentle hand on Taylor’s wrist before he tears the packet open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Taylor says. “It’s just... I’ve imagined this a million times and now it’s real and it’s just a little overwhelming. Just.” He pauses, and hangs his head down when he laughs. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Zac laughs too, giving Taylor’s wrist a squeeze. “You think I do?” 

“I know, but.” When he looks up, Zac sees someone who’s twenty five, but also someone who’s twenty, who’s seventeen, who’s thirteen and scared. “I’ve loved you almost half my life and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not gonna fuck this up,” Zac says. “Even if you... I don’t know, I can’t even think of anything you could do that would fuck this up.” 

“I can think of a million things, but thank you,” Taylor says. “I love you so much. I love you. I love - gosh, I can’t stop saying it, it’s ridiculous.” He buries his face in his hands.

“I don’t want you to stop saying it,” Zac says, pulling his hands away from his face. “We’ve waited, what, a decade?”

“More than that,” Taylor says and ducks his head, smiling the way he does when he laughs.

Zac pulls his head up and looks Taylor in the eyes. “So yeah, we have the right. Gotta make up for all that wasted time.”

He tugs Taylor by the wrist so he falls forward, half onto Zac’s lap. He’s getting a little soft, but that’s okay - they’ve got time. So much time. Taylor’s still hard, by some strange miracle, but he’s like that with everything - once you get him going it’s hard for him to come down. Taylor shifts so he’s straddling one of Zac’s thighs, and Zac instinctively grabs his sides, letting his hands drift down to his ass. He’s still mostly lean, as he’s always been, but there’s a little more give, a little softness from vacation eating and not enough sleep. Zac wants to sink his teeth into the skin of his ass, his hips, his thighs, his belly. Soon enough. He digs his fingers in for now and is rewarded with a sigh.

“I love you, I love you, I looooove youuuuu,” Zac says, breaking off into a croon and falling onto his back so their hips press together. “Did I mention I love you?”

“You might’ve,” Taylor gets out, half a groan and half a laugh, grinding his hips down on Zac’s. 

“But seriously,” Zac says, looking Taylor right in the eyes. “I’m the feelings guy of this operation so... I love you. I’m in love with you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only person for me.”

The look Taylor gives him says everything - tender eyes, sweet smile. He gives Zac a tiny peck on the lips. “God. Just... you. I think I’m ready now. If you are.”

“Yeah, I am,” Zac says, unable to think of any kind of snarky comment.

Taylor climbs off him and unwraps the condom as Zac sits up a little, spreading his legs. His hands are still and precise as he rolls it on; Zac is transfixed by his concentration. When he’s done, he slinks over slowly, lifting Zac’s hips and spreading him out more, the motion making Zac shiver in anticipation. He takes his cock and teases Zac, dragging it up and down his entrance, starting to push then retreating. Zac clutches the sheets and whines. Taylor smirks, the bastard, and finally lines himself up for real. 

_So this is actually happening then. I’m about to have sex with my best friend, who is a guy, who I have been in love with for half my life._

“Warning you right now, I’m probably gonna last thirty seconds,” Taylor says.

“There’s always next time,” Zac says.

“...yeah. Yeah. You’re right,” Taylor says with a brilliant grin and starts to push in.

Aside from the initial sting, it’s not nearly as painful as he had been anticipating. It’s more odd than anything else, a sensation that is completely and utterly alien to him. It’s also kind of good, like Taylor’s fingers multiplied. He lets out a little sound as Taylor sinks deeper in. When Taylor bottoms out, he looks down at Zac, and his face spells out utter desperation. He stays still, letting them both get used to the feeling. The air is thick with their mutual desire. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he says. “Let me know when you’re ready.” 

After a few tense moments, Zac nods. Taylor nods back and starts to move excruciatingly slow, just rocking his hips. The transition from weird to just plain good is quick as things get more slick and smooth. Taylor’s holding back (so sweet, always so sweet) and while Zac appreciates it, this isn’t nearly enough. He wants Taylor’s passion and intensity, how he throws himself into music and exploring the world. He feels the potential in the weight of his hands, the cant of his hips, but there needs to be the push. 

“More,” he manages to croak out. “P-please.”

“More? Yeah?” When Zac nods, Taylor picks up the pace, bracing his hands in the dip of Zac’s bent knees and pushing his thighs ever so slightly backward.

Things are starting to feel the way they should - at least what he’s seen in what little porn he’s watched (kind of hot, kind of scary at the same time). The hot drag of Taylor inside him feels so right, their rhythm and roll seamless, but being this close to Taylor is what seals the deal for him. He’s probably the closest he’s ever been with another person; even the girls he’s had sex with don’t share that kind of history with him. Taylor stops for a second and just looks down at him.

“What’s up?” Zac asks, shifting his hips a little forward. 

“You look so beautiful right now, love,” Taylor whispers. 

With that, Taylor pushes his thighs back more and kisses the knob of his ankle, looking down at him so softly as he resumes gently rocking inside him. If Zac wasn’t a pool of mush then, he is now. Making love is probably the most hokey, old fashioned turn of phrase, but that’s what this feels like. _This is why people do this._

They keep at the same pace, and Zac is lulled into a sense of security, reeling from just the reality of doing this. Something changes though, very suddenly. When Taylor shifts his hips, perhaps on accident, he jabs that same spot from before, hard. It’s like an electric shock rolling through his body. Holy shit. No, _this_ is why people do this. He cries out, arching his back. 

“Are you okay?” Taylor says, stopping entirely. 

“Please don’t stop,” Zac says. “I don’t know what you did, but keep doing that.”

“As you wish,” Taylor says, a la Princess Bride, because he’s the worst. When he starts up again, they both have to pause to laugh; who else says stuff like that during sex? 

Now that they’ve broken through that barrier, Taylor isn’t as shy with his thrusts. It’s just as much for Zac as it is for himself, as he mumbles praise and compliments. Zac’s legs wrap around his waist as he leans down for kisses - no tongue, just feather light over and over and over. Taylor’s eyes are just barely closed, his mouth just barely open, and it’s so pretty. He’s so pretty, always has been. But it’s still not enough. He wants to be sore. He wants that face screwed up and red, sweaty and fucked out. As much as he’s trying to thrust back and get a proper speed in place, turning their kisses into nips, it’s _not enough_. 

“Please, more, I need, _Taylor_ -” Zac whimpers, arching his back when Taylor hits that sweet spot again.

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” Taylor says, a wicked grin on his face. Whoa, this is new.

Zac doesn’t know why, but there’s something about this side of Taylor that drives him crazy. He digs his heels into Taylor’s back. “Isn’t that what I just fucking said -”

“Fussy,” Taylor says, but something switches in Taylor’s eyes, something primal. He pulls out lightning fast, but before Zac can protest, he presses Zac’s thighs all the way back, until his knees are beside his head, and pushes back in. 

Zac did not know his body could bend this way, but he’s glad it does, because it’s no strain for Taylor to pound him into the mattress. The piercing slap of skin against skin slices the air around them as Taylor picks up the pace, like he can’t get deep enough, shove hard enough. Zac can’t even push back like he’s been doing, reduced to rolling with every thrust. Taylor isn’t hitting that spot every time, but when he does, it’s pleasure with the force of a blow to the chest. He’s definitely going to be sore tomorrow, maybe for a few days, but it’s completely worth it. Lifting his head up, he wraps his hand around the back of Taylor’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss. 

“Oh my - ah, you feel so good, never felt like this -” Zac knows he’s babbling, maybe what he’s saying doesn’t make sense, but he’s awash in feeling.

Taylor’s eyes are screwed shut, his face sweaty, and he’s never looked more beautiful. “Fuck, Zac - I’m gonna come, I - ah, love you, I love you so fucking much -”

“I love you too, c’mon, come for me,” Zac says, straining up to bite Taylor’s lip.

That sends Taylor over the edge, as he comes with a weird bark noise that Zac will definitely be making fun of him for later. He rides it out inside Zac, thrusts long and languid. After pulling out and tying up the condom, Taylor slumps over Zac’s chest. His weight is comfortable and solid, his breath tickling Zac’s ear. Zac’s hard on is trapped between them, and while it’s uncomfortable, it’s not the end of the world. He could probably stay like this until the world ended, actually, which is a terrifying thought. Being sweaty and sticky, pinned down by a cute boy, with his foot half asleep, is exactly where he wants to be. 

Taylor must feel Zac’s cock between them though, because he lifts his head, eyes wide and concerned. “Wait, you didn’t come? I‘m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Zac says. “I can get myself off, no sweat. You just did a whole lot.”

“If you didn’t come, I didn’t do enough,” Taylor says. He rolls off him and settles in the curve of his side, starting to stroke Zac with intent. “You have a nice dick, you know that?”

“Uh, thanks? You too?” Zac says, trying to keep it cool even as he arches into Taylor’s touch. His callused hands feel so good on his skin.

“Can’t let you get too comfortable,” Taylor says, kissing behind his ear. “Gotta keep it awkward. How I roll, you know.” 

“God forbid anything be normal,” Zac says, voice thick with pleasure. He still feels kind of gross, but his foot is starting to regain feeling. 

“Hmmm,” Taylor says, thumbing the head of Zac’s dick and grinning when he thrashes. “I think it would be better if I blew you though. What do you think?”

“Great, awesome, fantastic, swell idea,” Zac says. “Do you always get weird and loopy after orgasms?”

“Usually I just sleep. You’re magic.” Taylor giggles as he shuffles down Zac’s body, kissing what feels like every nook and cranny, even not-so-hot stuff (elbows? really?). When he reaches his cock, he gives it a little kiss, which Zac laughs at, especially with how Taylor grins like a loon. How fucking cute is he. 

“You’re adorable,” Zac says.

“Nah, that’s you,” Taylor says, and takes Zac’s cock in until it hits the back of his throat. 

“Ah, you gotta warn a guy -!” Zac jokes, but it comes out as a wheeze.

Taylor doesn’t say anything - granted, he can’t, obviously - but looks up at Zac as he bobs his head up and down. This is something Zac has imagined countless times - in his room, his bunk, the shower, biting on the heel of his hand so no one can hear him - but the reality is so much better. He’s transfixed by the way Taylor’s mouth looks stretched around his cock as it moves up and down. Taylor’s hands still maintain a tremor against his thighs as he takes him in, takes his time, and Zac’s not going to last much longer like this.

Taylor pulls off to catch his breath, big gasps of air as he keeps jacking him off. “God, you have no idea how hot you look right now.”

“You wearing your contacts today? You must be bl - _oh_ ,” Zac says as Taylor takes him in again.

Zac’s just on the precipice of finishing, when Taylor slips a hand between his spread legs and presses a finger into Zac. He’s still sensitive from before, the aftershocks coming at random. When a throb happens, Taylor slides in further, and the clench around his finger feels so right. He hasn’t stopped sucking him off either; in fact, he’s gotten faster, harder. The combo is deadly. 

“I’m gonna come,” Zac says after a struggle to even form the words.

When Taylor doesn’t move, he tugs on his hair a little, which makes Taylor moan and sink down deeper. “Dude, I’m gonna come, I’m warning you -”

Taylor nods and pulls his finger away. He looks up, right into Zac’s eyes, a dare. Something about that sets him off, and he comes with a shout. His hands, tangled in Taylor’s hair, yank at the roots as he fucks Taylor’s mouth. Taylor takes it all, eyes heavy lidded, sucking until it’s too much. When he pulls off, he sits on his haunches and swallows, wiping his mouth off and panting. His lips are so red and shiny. 

“That didn’t taste nearly as bad as I thought it would,” Taylor says, shrugging.

“I’ve eaten a lot of fruit this trip,” Zac says absentmindedly. “Also, what the hell, that was really hot. Get over here.”

Taylor crawls over and they collapse on the bed in unison, sweaty and content. Zac has a stray thought about turning on the AC, but that would require getting up. He has no intention of leaving this bed, barring bodily emergency, if it means being apart from the boy pressed into the curves of his side. Who knew Taylor was such a post coital cuddler?

“Holy shit,” Taylor says, after a tranquil silence. 

Zac snorts with laughter, which sets Taylor off. They giggle together, the force of Taylor’s laughter pushing him further into Zac’s side. It’s strange having a guy’s naked body against his own, but he’s not opposed to it. Taylor has flat, broad planes instead of the compact curves of the girls he‘s dated. He always felt at odds with their bodies in a way he doesn’t with Taylor’s. Maybe that’s a sign.

“Yeah, man,” Zac says. “That was a thing that happened.”

“I just had sex with you,” Taylor says. “And then I blew you. What.” 

“You just fucked me in the ass,” Zac says, giving Taylor’s ass a smack. “And I liked it.”

“You did?” Taylor asks. He’s trying to pass it off as playful, but there’s an undercurrent of genuine concern.

“I loved it,” Zac says. “Ten out of ten. Would do again. Would like to try reverse, if that’s not something you’re opposed to.”

Taylor thinks for a second, his stupidly beautiful eyes glancing up. “Fucking you was ridiculously hot. Eleven out of ten, would definitely do again. You better be up for the reverse.”

If Zac could even remotely get hard again, he would be right now. He does the thing he can do right now and laughs at Taylor’s comment. He’s still the same person, though Zac doesn’t know why he wouldn’t be. He’s just Zac, and Taylor’s just Taylor, and they’re still gonna be weird and silly even if they fuck. Before he can voice this, he sees that Taylor has something on the tip of his tongue he’s struggling to get out. 

“What’s up, babe?” Zac says. He’s wanted to call Taylor that for a long time. 

Taylor stammers. “Okay, uh, this is jumping the gun probably, but whatever. It’s been on my mind like forever. Do you want to make this an actual thing?”

Zac’s heart stutters. “You mean dating? Boyfriends.”

“Something like that,” Taylor says. He’s staring up at the ceiling very intently.

Zac pinches his chin and turns his head so they’re staring each other in the eye. “I was just making sure. Yeah dude, totes.”

“Totes m’goats,” Taylor says, but it’s through a face splitting grin. He rolls around in the sheets before rolling half on top of Zac, licking his neck.

“You’re so weird, God,” Zac says. 

“ _You’re_ so weird,” Taylor says. “Who the hell responds to being asked out with ‘totes’?”

“Not for nothing dude, but we just engaged in sodomy, which is illegal in a lot of countries and a sin,” Zac says in what he hopes in the same tone of voice Taylor used before. “I’m risking international imprisonment, not to mention eternal damnation. Not to make light of those things of course, but I think I can respond however I like, thank you.”

“Good to know that my boyfriend is still just as annoying as he always has been,” Taylor says to himself, but also to Zac, it seems. “Boyfriend. It’s weird. But I like it. My boyfriend has a wonky nose.” He pinches Zac’s nose for effect.

Zac gets caught up in watching Taylor’s chest rise and fall for a second. “My boyfriend is touching my face like a weirdo.”  
 “My boyfriend makes the fucking dumbest faces during sex.” He twists his face into a cross between a grimace and a groan, which sends them both into giggles.

“No way do I look like that. I make Zoolander faces, thank you,” Zac says. “Le Tigre.”

“Magnum,” Taylor says as they both make the same Zoolander face.

When their laughter subsides, they settle into a comfortable silence. They eventually drift into each other’s arms, Zac pressing his front along Taylor’s back at his request. 

“I just want you to hold me,” Taylor says, and somehow, it’s the most intimate thing he’s said all night. 

After so much time, they’re finally allowed to just be alone together. Zac is tempted to sing that song from the self-titled record (which he has listened to, he wore out his copy of the CD, he’s so fucking proud of Taylor), but he knows Taylor would kick him. They talk about silly stuff, what they’re going to do when they get home (“one last fried hurrah before I start eating well again, I look like shit -” “no, don’t, you look so cute - not that you’re not cute all the time -”), and of course, the inevitable -

“Who are we going to tell?” Taylor asks. “Like, how are we going to do it? I don’t want to pretend we’re not dating. Things are different now, you know?”

“You’re right, they are,” Zac says. “In a way I’m happy we waited? The people we know have relaxed with the whole fire and brimstone thing. I mean, Josh already knows. He’s like, a huge fan.”

“What?” Taylor says, and twists his head to look at Zac.

“He’s not entirely up to date, dumbass,” Zac says. Taylor laughs and twists back to face front. “I mean he’s been bugging me to tell you how I feel since we started being friends again. I mean, he knew before that too. Brother’s intuition, I guess. He probably also told Isabelle because she’s nosy as fuck. And Jenna. Oh no.”

Taylor guffaws, curling up further into Zac’s arms. Zac squeezes him and nuzzles into his neck. “Dude, like, Justin and Chris ganged up on me like two weeks after you guys left the band.”

“No kidding,” Zac says. “What did they say?”

“It was hilarious in retrospect. They were like ‘you don’t even like Op Ivy,’” Taylor says. “So I caved. Cried a lot, it was embarrassing. I mean, so that means Jana knows. Oh no is right.”

“You don’t like Op Ivy?” Zac says, desperate to not think about how many people likely already know.

“I mean like, I only liked them so you’d want to be friends with me more.”

“You lying sack of shit. You sneak! Okay so, most of our siblings down, yikes,” Zac says through his laughter. “Hayley and Jeremy?

“I think they already know?” Taylor says. “I mean, they haven’t said anything, but they both did this eyebrow waggle when I said I was going to New Zealand with you. ‘With friends. Suuuuure.‘ Which means Chad and Kat know... fuck, man,” Taylor says. 

Zac further wraps his arms around him, resting his chin in his shoulder. “We’ll be okay. It’s good that those are the people that know. They love us.”

He feels Taylor nod. “Yeah. They’ve been waiting a while I think. I can just imagine Hayley and Chad being like, ‘About time!’ Chad shedding a manly tear, you know.”

“Sometimes I think Chad’s a bigger fanboy than Hayley is,” Zac says.

“Like, the biggest PFLAG dad for sure,” Taylor says and laughs like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

What the hell is PFLAG? “Uh, sure,” Zac says. “We’ll just be the weird uncles with cats.”

Taylor’s breath hitches and Zac goes into panic mode, not for the first time tonight. “Was that - oh God, I don’t mean to be preemptive, I mean, whatever works -”

“I was just going to say that we will be dog parents, not cat parents, thank you,” Taylor says, grabbing Zac’s hand as if to say _I’m in this for the long haul_. 

“We will have a maximum of one - okay, two dogs,” Zac says, because he knows even without being able to see his face that Taylor is pouting, the bastard.

Taylor yawns exaggeratedly. “We’ll figure parenting and how to break the news everyone already knows tomorrow. More cuddling now. More sleep,” he says as he kicks his feet backward to tangle them with Zac’s. 

Zac laughs softly and nuzzles into Taylor’s shoulder as he pushes back into Zac’s embrace. He thinks, not for the first time by a long shot, that Taylor’s probably the cutest person on the planet. He never thought that he’d be such a softie though, even though he’s shown shades of it throughout this vacation, throughout making up, throughout all this time they’ve known each other. 

“Yessir,” Zac says. He wraps one arm around Taylor’s chest and experimentally slides one down to rest just below Taylor’s belly button. “Is my hand here okay?”

“More than okay,” Taylor says. “Good night. I love you.”

Zac breathes Taylor in, smelling sweat and the ocean, before saying, “I love you too.” 

-

_“Get in the water!” Zac shouts at Taylor, who’s sitting at the ledge of the pool, only his calves in. He’s still got his T-shirt on, and seems content to just kick his legs. “We need one more person!”_

_They just got a big pool installed in the backyard in time for Zac’s birthday (not a present for him, they told him about forty thousand times, but his dad winked at the end of each one). People have been taking turns swimming all day, but most people are eating and basking in the sun. Right now, the teenage boys have commandeered the pool for some kind of weird fusion of several water sports because none of them collectively know the rules for any particular one._

_“I just ate,” Taylor says, sounding bored. “I don’t want to get a cramp.”_

_“You know that’s not true,” Zac says. “That doesn’t really happen.” He actually doesn’t know if it’s not true, but he’s willing to lie to get Taylor to stop being an asshole._

_“Stop being an asshole!” Tim from a few doors down says. He’s fifteen and his mom doesn’t really yell at him if he swears. He has a girlfriend. He’s pretty cool._

_The other guys echo their agreement as Zac shouts, “Yeah, what they all said!”_

_“Fine, fine, stop complaining,” Taylor says, and goes to slide in. He pauses when he realizes he still has his shirt on. With one swift motion he takes it off and throws it somewhere on the lawn._

_“You know that ants are gonna get on that, right Taylor?” Katy, Justin’s girlfriend, says from her lawn chair somewhere away from the pool. She’s kind of annoying but they invited the Yorks so of course she tagged along._

_“Whatever,” Taylor says. He hates her. It’s hilarious. “Just a second.”_

_He’s been sitting hunched over so he reaches up to stretch, clasping his fingers over his head and... oh. He’s pale, always has been, and he’s always been on the skinny side, so it’s the type that gives way to his muscles shifting under his delicate skin. When he rolls his head, he exposes his neck on the backward tilt, the jut of his jaw. His eyes are closed for temporary relief from the blinding sun, nose slightly sunburnt, lips gently parted. Zac has never noticed his lips, how they’re shaped like a girl’s._

_He’s never really noticed Taylor at all. He also doesn’t notice that Taylor has already slipped into the pool until he whacks him right in the face with a pool noodle._

_“What the hell, man?” Zac says, splashing water in his face._

_“Daydreaming, space case?” Taylor says. “What’s up with you?”_

_“It’s really hot out. Also trying to distract you so I can steal the ball,” Zac says, lunging forward to grab the ball and throwing it to Tim. The game commences without any further distractions._

_Later, way later, when everyone’s gone because tomorrow is a school day, Zac lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, wide awake. The party was fun, the game was victorious, and his mom’s cooking was as always amazing. Overall, his passage into his teenage years was a positive one. Taylor’s right - being thirteen doesn’t feel any different, really. Maybe he’ll feel it when he’s halfway through to fourteen, like Taylor is._

_Taylor._

_Zac doesn’t get what happened earlier today. Nothing has changed about either of them. Taylor’s the same scrawny, brace face jerk that he was yesterday, and he’ll still be the same when they hang out tomorrow. Only real difference between them is that Taylor has a cell phone. And he’s got nice arms. And shoulders. And a nice neck. And his lips are like a girl’s, which is a weird thing to notice, because he stares at girls’ lips a lot, but lips on a guy are something you just don’t notice, you know? Like, you think about what they’re talking about, not what their lips look like when they say it._

_Zac hasn’t kissed a girl yet, which makes him really lame. Taylor kissed a girl a few months ago, on Valentine’s Day, which makes him not lame. Zac wonders what it’s like to actually be in the moment. He puts himself in Taylor’s place, tries to feel the softness of her lips... but Taylor’s look that soft, too. The girl Taylor kissed had really long hair, down to her ass, which looked so nice to run his fingers through... but Taylor’s ringlets are inviting (when they’re not a puffy mess, but even still). His torso dips in like a girl’s would, so it would be easy to wrap his arms around it. It wouldn’t even have to be a big deal, just to get it out of the way. Taylor’s a friend, not a stranger._

_The stiffness between his legs is almost painful. Instead of willing it away like he usually does, he pulls off his shorts and pulls up the covers. He’s never done this before - thought about it, sure, knows how it works, but never actually tried it. When he gets his hand on himself, his eyes roll back with how good it feels. The girl is gone, and it’s just him and Taylor on the lawn by the pool, kissing. Their shirts are off, and Taylor doesn’t care that he’s fat, and Zac doesn’t care about his braces. And it’s not just closed mouth kissing, they’re using tongue._

_“Let me get on top of you,” Fantasy Taylor says, and he straddles Zac’s hips before kissing him again._

_Fantasy Zac’s hands slide up to Taylor’s waist and they start to grind against each other, not breaking the kiss. He shifts up, Taylor still straddling his hips, so that he has access to Taylor’s neck. He’s just kissing it at first, but then he tries using his tongue to lap at his neck. He sucks on one particular spot, like he’s seen in movies, and Fantasy Taylor moans and rolls his hips._

_Reality Zac comes into his balled-up boxers, arching his hips off the bed and biting his first to keep from crying out._

_When he’s come down from the haze, the panic and nausea settle in. He buries his face into his pillow and lets out a little sob - not just from disgust, but from utter terror. He isn’t gay. He isn’t like that - all girly and wearing makeup and talking with a lisp. He’s not, he’s not. He likes girls, how they look and smell and their bodies and how they sound when they laugh. Zac doesn’t know any gay people - it just isn’t a thing in Franklin. If you’re gay, you move elsewhere. That’s what his distant relatives say anyway. His parents are mum on the subject. Zac can just leave this behind him because he’s not gay. It’s that simple._

_But. Okay, so if he was gay? Or like, kind of gay, because he definitely likes girls. Like, hypothetically, what if he liked guys and girls? Or what if he had a crush on Taylor only? Which is ridiculous, but if he was gay or gay-ish (which he’s not), it would probably be for Taylor. He really likes hanging out with him, because he’s good at music and funny, and he’s good looking for a guy, Zac guesses. So it would make sense logically. That’s just a fact. Not something that has to be a want or a desire._

_There’s also the fact that he’s getting his braces off soon, so it’s gonna be interesting to see what his smile looks like without them. He likes making him smile because then he laughs. Zac likes making people laugh in general, not just Taylor, of course. But Taylor’s eyes get all crinkly and if his hair is long, it falls in his face. How does a guy have hair that curly and pretty? It’s so funny when Taylor tries to blow it out of his face and he can’t. If Zac had a crush on Taylor, it would explain why he always wants to brush it out of his face and tuck it behind his ear._

_It all sounds so plausible. Maybe._

_Even if all of that was more than hypothetical. Even if it was true and Zac did have a crush on Taylor. Zac could maybe sort of accept it, that’s what it would have to be. Just something to accept and move past. It would never happen. Taylor would sooner date someone from a TV show than he would have a crush on chubby, obnoxious, ugly Zac. There would be a bigger chance of their little basement band actually working out than there would be of Taylor liking Zac back (if he liked Taylor). There would be a bigger chance of Zac going to, say, New Zealand or Australia or whatever. Like he’d ever get to leave the country, much less go there, much less have a band make it. But you never know..._

_Zac rolls back onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, willing his stomach to stop churning. Maybe._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. if you want, add me on tumblr at [toallofourfavoriteparts](http://toallofourfavoriteparts.tumblr.com).


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